Scented
by Verus Lumen
Summary: Hermione opens a gift from a secret man, and unknowingly accepts a Visit in doing so. My answer to the I'm Just a Gigolo challenge. SSHG. Please, R&RrnThe Greatest Story Ever MiniMized included chp. 12 PERMA WIP
1. Perfume Box

It was a good summer. Hermione stretched on her white cotton sheets and greeted the warm summer morning. It was a good day. She got up from her bed and took deep breaths, preparing her body for morning meditation. She was content.

She heard Harry rummaging around downstairs, probably looking for his broom again. There wasn't much to do today, or any day. It was summer, and she lazed about her summer home with Harry and Ron for the better part of it. Mostly, she decided, it was just a time to rest.

Breakfast and tea had been set out on her table, where Hermione ate it slowly, savoring the spice in the tea. Dobby was a good house elf, and he worked with pay. She smiled at that thought.

She looked around her mostly clean room and nodded happily. But during her inspection, she found a small box on her mantle that she had never seen before. Alarmed, Hermione left her table and walked cautiously toward it, wand in hand. She could never be too cautious.

After a few charms to determine whether the box had been hexed, she hesitantly reached out toward it. Instantly, she recognized it as a small perfume box and opened it. Little ruby beads glittered up at her and Hermione took one out, sniffing. To her, it smelled like a spiced flower, a captivating sent. She placed it on her wrist and watched as it melted into her skin, to leave a subtle scent on her skin. There was no note of any kind left with it. Just the undoubtedly expensive present. Harry would never buy her something like this. Ron was too po-...

Who could it be? She closed the lid over the sparkling gems and replaced it on her mantle. Even the box was beautiful, dark mahogany embossed with silver and precious gems. She debated whether or not to tell her friends, and finally decided against it. She would ask Dobby, who would willingly die before telling her secret. If Harry or Ron had given it to her, they would flaunt it openly, so she didn't need to worry about either of them.

Hermione dressed in a white summer dress and covered her wrist in a white band of chastity. It was old fashioned, but she honored the tradition out of respect for the matron of the house. Dumbledore knew her well enough to trust her with Harry and Ron, but the old widow who took care of the summerhouse had her doubts. Figg was her name.

Finally pleased with her outfit, Hermione padded out of her room barefoot. She descended the flight of stairs to find Harry tousled and looking for a fight. She sighed and resigned herself to it.

"Have you seen my broom?" Harry fumed with his hands on his hips. He didn't even notice how she had plaited her hair.

"No, Harry, have you lost it?" Hermione smiled, "And good morning to you, too."

"Good morning." He bit out, "Well, I haven't seen it and Ron hasn't seen it, so..."

"You think I've used it to kindle firewood?" She pointed toward the hearth and made a snapping gesture.

"No! Just, have you seen it? I was hoping to play some Quidditch with everyone today, they're all coming to visit."

"All?" Hermione asked, alarmed. She hadn't been told, "Who's all?"

"Oh, you know." Harry waved his hand dismissively, but when he saw that Hermione wasn't budging, he continued, "You know, Ginny, Fred, George, Oliver...Them!"

"And Bill and Charley and Percy and Cho, too?" Hermione ticked the names off on her fingers.

"Well, ye-"

"And you didn't think to ask me?"

"But I thought you'd like a surp-"

"No you didn't. Don't lie to me, Harry. I know Legilimency, I know when you're lying," She threatened unconvincingly.

He laughed and put up his hands placatingly, "Alright, I'm sorry. But they're coming and Mrs. Figg already knows, she's set out a picnic for all of us."

Hermione sighed and walked to the closet in the hallway. "You know, you're really irresponsible, Harry." She said while pulling his perfect broom from the back of the closet.

"Oh! Thanks Mione!" He kissed her on the cheek and ran outside, whooping to Ron about how smart she was. She smiled. They were such children.

Mrs. Figg peeked out at her from the kitchen door and beckoned her to come and stir the barley rice. They chatted amiably until Hermione remembered her perfume box.

"Mrs. Figg? I completely forgot about something I found this morning." She started.

"Arabella. It's a pretty name and it shouldn't go to waste." Arabella interrupted, and interrupted again as Hermione opened her mouth to speak, "Actually, Bella. I like Bella. Call me Bella."

"Bella." Hermione tried it and found it to her liking. "It's about something I found this morning."

"Yes, you said that already."

"It's a perfume box, about the size of my fist. I don't know how it got into my room, but it was on my mantel this morning. It's quite beautiful, and expensive looking." Hermione described it and watched as Bella's expression changed.

"This box, the perfume, what did it look like?" Bella asked, a slight trepidation in her voice.

Hermione was growing slightly alarmed. This old widow seemed to be fearful of the box. Perhaps she shouldn't have used the perfume. "Well, the box is heavy mahogany, and it's got gilded sides with silver...embellishments, and emeralds and rubies along the top of it. The perfumes, they're so little, they look like tiny rubies."

Bella put a hand on her chin in contemplation. They'd burned the potatoes.

"Is there something I should know about it?" Hermione pressed, wanting desperately to know if she had somehow cursed herself in using the perfume.

"No, it's just. I think you may have received a gift from somebody." Hermione stared at the old lady. Obviously, it was a gift from somebody. She was about to say something when Bella shot her eyes toward Hermione, "You didn't use it!" It was a command, a question.

Hermione fidgeted under the intent gaze and nodded slightly, "I used one. I didn't know...well. I thought it could be a present from Ron or Harry..." She lied through her teeth.

"Oh, that means you've accepted his..." Bella caught herself in time.

"Accepted whose? Whose what?" Hermione was thoroughly worried and confused now.

"Oh dear. How old are you?"

"...Seventeen."

Bella sighed at that. "Well then, it's you're choice. I've heard a few stories about the box. It's usually a different color, I've never heard of red before. If this is what I think it is, it's your choice..." She muttered, still consulting herself, "The stories I've heard were about a man who... well," she flustered.

"A man who..?"

"Comes to you at night." Bella declared dramatically.

"At night?" Hermione gawked at that.

"And it's in accepting his gifts." Bella lifted her pan and spread the potatoes over a cutting board to cool, "You've accepted one of them already. He's not known to visit just anybody, Hermione. A woman would be proud to have been called on, but you're little more than a girl..."

"This is...he's a...what?"

"The last I've heard of this secret man is that he'd...visited Narcissa Malfoy. That was four years ago. I've stopped hearing about him since then. He's well known in the wizarding world, but as a muggle born, you would have had little chance to hear of him. And...it's peculiar. The first gift is always from him, but it isn't usually...May I see the box?"

"Of course, I'll get it." Hermione left as Bella wiped her hands across her apron and folded her arms patiently.

She was utterly confused. Bella had tried to explain the situation to her, but had only managed in confusing Hermione even more.

When Hermione came with the box in her hands, Bella snatched it away immediately. She examined the underside of it and tapped it soundly on the top.

"You cast revealing charms on it?"

"Yes, of course."

Bella opened it gingerly, gasping at what she saw inside.

"These are so much nicer than the ones I've heard about." Then Bella sighed in resignation, "But you've already accepted his first gift. He'll visit you, once. After that, give him nothing. He accepts personal items as gifts. A handmade comb, a necklace from childhood, something personal and completely yours. He would take them from where he left his present. Do not leave anything personal there, and he will leave you in peace. I'm curious, but my duty to you and to Albus would have me warn you completely against this. You're too young. Perhaps he will come again in a few years..." Bella shrugged and continued cooking, leaving the box of perfumes at the countertop.

"What should I do with this?" Hermione gestured toward the gilded box.

"It's yours. Keep it, but don't use them frivolously. Those are expensive, worth more than I am. Save it for your wedding or something as important." She warned.

Hermione regarded the box in a different light. It was precious, and she had just wasted one of the perfumes on a day outside, watching people play Quidditch. She wondered how much the perfume bead had cost, and decided that it was probably worth more than a ruby of the same size. She winced.

She lifted a wrist to her face and sniffed, wondering if the scent still lingered. It did, and she soon found that her entire body emitted the subtly spicy scent.

Suddenly, she realized that he would come to visit her. Come to Actually visit her. And 'visit' could mean a number of things. She blushed at the thought, and her gaze went straight to the band of chastity at her wrist. Soon, though, someone would come to Visit her. She rippled with trepidation.

Bella seemed to notice her anxiousness and tried to soothe her, "Don't worry about it, Hermione. He won't do anything you don't want him to. I know that for sure." Then she went on in a long narrative about not being a witch and therefore never having the chance to have been approached by the secret man. Gigolo, she called him. Hermione laughed at that.

Soon enough, all was cooked and packed for their picnic out on the hill, by the small valley that Harry had cleared for Quidditch. It was already afternoon, as they had taken some time to cook the meal. She could hear Weasley voices out in the hallway, and recognized Ginny among them.

She took her box along with her and tried to hide it somewhere in her dress, but eventually decided to carry it at her side. Sometimes, thick, voluminous robes were essential.

Ginny was chasing Harry around with her new broom. It was a comical sight, but she had stopped running when she spotted Hermione.

"Hermione! Your hair! Oh, you're beautiful!" Ginny gushed, herding Hermione into another room, "You _must _tell me how you did it. And then you have to give me some."

Hermione smiled, "It's just a simple charm, I'll teach you later." Hermione hesitated for a second, and then decided to trust Ginny, "But there's something I have to tell you. You might know more about it than I do, but it's a secret."

Ginny nodded, confused, but alert.

"You can't tell Harry or Ron, nobody. Alright?" Hermione realized she had been wagging her finger at Ginny and put it down.

Ginny nodded fervently, "What is it?"

"I think, well, look at this." Gingerly, Hermione brought up the thick, heavy box and placed it on the table between them. Ginny placed a finger on one edge and traced the pattern of silver and jewel to the other side. The carved middle of it yielded to her finger, enchanted by a spell Hermione had never seen.

Ginny looked up, "It's..."

"A perfume box. Look." And she opened it, revealing all the little rubies. "Smell them, they're wonderful."

Hermione placed one gem on Ginny's fingertip and waited avidly. Ginny had brought it up to her face to sniff it, as if it were too precious to be held by her.

"It smells like...spiced apples." Ginny decided. Hermione's opinion of the scent firmly contradicted Ginny's reckoning of it, but she said nothing.

Ginny tenderly replaced the ruby.

"So who gave it to you?" Ginny asked, more enthusiastic, now that she knew the value of the gift.

"That's just it. I don't know. Mrs. Figg told me that it was the gift of a secret man...who would come to visit me. I don't know exactly what she meant, but I have a sneaking suspicion..."

"He gave this to you! Oh Hermione, I know who you're talking about!" Ginny corrected herself, "Well, I don't know who he is, but he Visited Narcissa Malfoy a while back. She made no secret of it, and that's the last person he had ever seen. Do you know what this means? What are you going to give him in return?"

"Wait, hold on. Mrs. Figg, she told me not to give him anything. She said that because I already used one of the gems, I accepted the gift and one visit from him. And that I'm not to provoke him into visiting me again by giving him anything. She said I'm too-" Hermione stopped abruptly. Too young? She looked again at the band on her wrist and considered it.

Ginny waited impatiently for her to finish, and when Hermione said nothing else, she spoke bluntly, "That's rubbish. Do you know how rare this visit is? You have to accept it! You'll be the envy of _every _witch who's ever heard of him. Mum used to talk about him and wish he would visit her. She was married of course, and she wouldn't do something like accept the gift, but he doesn't just approach anybody, Hermione! You'll see. Narcissa Malfoy never hid it. I don't know the woman, and I'm sure I wouldn't like her if she's at all similar to her prat of a son, but she didn't hide it. She...she." Ginny trailed off, trying to find some way to express the urgency of this event.

Hermione looked again at the box. A gift? What did she have to give him? Briefly, she considered accepting his Visits and giving her personal items to him without bounds, but then she realized how important some things were to her, and if he would ever require them of her. She would experience one visit from him, and see whether or not it was worth it, she decided.

Bella had come out of the kitchen with a huge basket filled with food. All the Weasley children, Oliver wood and Cho Chang waited eagerly with their brooms, ready for a game of Quidditch. Hermione smiled at that, remembering why she liked to stay in the summerhouse, and why this box of perfume was just an extra comfort.

Ginny grinned reassuringly and winked, as Hermione went back upstairs to put away her box. It was precious, in its own way, but she wouldn't trade her memories for something as fickle as this. The day was waiting for her, outside in the warm breeze of summer. Her family of friends was waiting for her.

............................

This was such an awesome challenge, I just had to take it. I hope it meets standards and stuff. It might be one of the most original plots I've ever created, and that's pretty sad because most of the plot was from the challenge issuer person. This fic is not like a lot of others I've read. I can't look at it as the author, because when I write...I feel like it just goes through me and onto web-paper. It might not be good to others, but to me, I don't know if I could change it without feeling like I'm somehow ruining someone else's work. This is why I need a beta, to do these things for me.

Anyway, please leave a review. I tried to make it a long chapter, so yeah, please leave a review for my tireless, tireless efforts

-Jenny


	2. First Visit

Hermione

Hermione opened her eyes to the dark. The room was warm.

We will make a sweet dream together

Hermione cast her eyes around wildly. Crookshanks lay sleeping at the foot of her bed. A second later, she found herself floundering in a sea of sheets and blankets. A hand rested upon her forehead and gently soothed her down, back into the sheets. She saw nothing.

"_Good evening, Hermione."_

"Who is this?" She ventured out from beneath the apple tree that had suddenly appeared above and around her. "Where?"

"_You needn't worry about any of that. We're nowhere. I'm yours."_

Hermione cast her eyes around again, searching for some kind of body. A crisp Autumn day waited in front of her, but the air did not smell of it. The air smelled like nothing.

"_And this is a lovely place you've dreamed. Would you enjoy a lake?"_

Bright, rippling water pooled up from nowhere. The lake grew and grew until the sun was just coming up at it's horizon. Or it was setting. Hermione could not tell.

"Where am I?" Hermione asked again.

"You're wherever you want to be. What would you like me to do?"

Hermione hesitated, but then willed a flower to ascend from the middle of the lake. It did. She knew now that this was a very lucid dream, that she somehow controlled. She and someone else…

"Come to me. Be here." She said, trying to sound as if she knew what she was talking about.

"Very well." The voice had suddenly grown to a body as well as a voice.

"What is this?" Hermione asked, somewhat frightened at seeing a man standing in front of her. The man was completely ordinary. There wasn't a single aspect about him that she had found at all interesting.

"This is a dream we create together. It's quite nice, isn't it? We are not limited to your room this way." He stated placidly. He picked an apple from her shade tree and brought it to her. "Eat."

She looked at the fruit skeptically and took it gently from his hand. She grimaced as she took a bite, "It tastes like nothing!" It was as if water had formed to take the shape and texture of an apple, while retaining no taste.

"It is what each of us contribute to this dream. The tree was yours, and the apple was mine. I have accepted that your tree bears fruit. You must accept that the fruit has a sweet, succulent taste, and it will. Try again."

Hermione looked at the apple, and knew the way it should taste. It should be sweet, juicy, and tart to some degree. It's flesh should be somewhat waxy, and that would have it's own taste and contribution to the whole. She took another bite. The flavor burst clearly through her. Then, she knew, the fruit would taste only as she expected it to taste. They could fly if they wanted to.

She looked at him again, and startled at the change in him. His hair was tied back now, and of a dark gold shade, with red streaks. The apple's colors, she thought reflexively.

"I am what you perceive of me. Do you see?" He changed yet again. Hermione noticed that he had suddenly become graceful, like a dancer is graceful. "That, I think, was from picking the apple." He noted, examining himself.

"And I can control what you are?" Hermione asked, somewhat heady with the sudden power.

"To a certain degree. We control this dream equally. Only, I do not want you to assume that we are completely asleep. Or need to be." He explained, "You sleep now, because there is no other way for you to know me yet. But I'm sitting at your bedside now, and watching you."

The thought should have unsettled her, but it didn't. She felt strangely reassured at this stranger's countenance.

She finally put the two thoughts together, "So this is the Visit! I had no idea…You gave me the perfume gems."

He smiled fondly at that, "Did you like them? I made them specifically for you. They suit you."

To see me again, you would like that, wouldn't you? To see me again. Place an object of yours, a personal belonging, on the mantle where I put the Perfume box. I will take it, and I will visit you again. We will make even sweeter dreams than this.

"It is nice to see a clear, crisp day, after so much heat this summer." He stated mildly.

"I would…like to." Hermione whispered, having experienced that message, rather than heard it.

"As would I." He agreed.

"And who are you?"

"Anybody. Whoever or whatever you perceive me to be. That is not to say that I don't have my own personality, but you will see soon enough." He walked gently through a forest that had suddenly appeared around them.

Hermione saw a kitten come toward her, tentatively. She bent down to pick it up, but it hissed and swiped at her. She looked up at the man, who smiled kindly.

"You cannot always make everything pleasant. But you can make things, here. You have a strong mind, Hermione." He picked up that cat and tossed it in the air, where it transformed itself into a bird and flew off across the lake. She watched its progress and eventually noticed him gazing at her intently. Nervous, she thought of something to say.

"What should I call you? I can hardly call you You forever."

"You needn't call me anything yet. You will develop a name for me, and a body. I know you for Hermione, and that is why I chose you. You can choose me to be anything. I can be a father, or a lover, or a son. What do you need?"

Hermione blinked at that, confused. She grinned maliciously as she poked at his offer, "Or a sister? Will you be my sister?"

She could feel his wince, though he was several feet away. "I suppose. It would be very awkward. I would look like a sister, but my attitude would be that of a man's, as would my knowledge. I think it best for you to choose a role than I am …or can be familiar with. I see a ribbon on your desk. Blue, with a small topaz at each end."

She noted that.

"Then, Sir, I'll call you for now. And I wont force you to be my sister, however funny I find it." She giggled and he rolled his eyes, "But I enjoy your company. This has been a strange night."

"Yes, a strange night. I want a favor though, I'm sorry to have to ask. I have not emerged for a very long time, and I wish it to be known that I've kept it that way. So please do not tell anybody about our encounter."

"I think Ginny will know in any case." Hermione stated, trying to think her away around that obstacle.

"But you trust her."

"Yes."

"Trust it. Goodnight, Hermione."

"Wait." She said, inching forward despite herself. She ended up right in front of him, looking up at his desperately ordinary face. "May I kiss you?"

"Kiss?" He asked, somewhat taken aback. "Of course, but I thought you would wait to choose which role…" He trailed off, watching her intent face somewhat uneasily.

She leaned in on tiptoe, bracing her hands on his shoulders, and softly kissed his cheek. Hermione knew, at that moment, what would be waiting on her mantle when he came to Visit again.

"Hermione." He smiled down at her, appreciatively. He placed so much emphasis on her name that it was unnecessary for further words. He weaved a flower through her hair and turned around. She touched the flower, and noted that it was the same one that she had forced to grow out of the lake. It felt leathery under her touch. It had no scent.

Before Hermione could say anything, he was gone, and she was simply there. The dream lasted a moment longer, and then Hermione drifted off into darkness, where true sleep claimed her.

Okay, it was a short chapter, I admit, but it didn't feel right continuing it from the dream Visit. I love this! It's so fun. I hope you all love it too. Once again, I'm still in need of a beta (thanks to those of you who already assumed I have a beta and complimented him/her thusly. smile)

If anybody is offering, please email me at One I would need for grammar, and perhaps one or two just to read it and tell me how they think the story's going.

I'd like to thank those of you who reviewed, and it's really making me look at my story from another point of view. Reviews rock. A lot. Thanks! May I kiss you?

-Jenny


	3. Patience, or Lack Thereof

She woke up early the next morning, trying not to breathe at all. The first thing that came to her mind was the previous night's dream. Vivid and beautiful, she remembered, and her Visit.

She placed her fingertips on her lips and gave a small smile. That had been a good dream.

A small weight pressed on her belly when she tried to sit up. Light had not yet reached her room and she fumbled around for her wand for a time before she whispered "Lumos" and the object was illuminated.

It looked like a paperweight. It was a stone, recklessly carved and placed on her abdomen. This, she realized, was another gift…however odd it was. She examined it closely, looking for any conspicuous markings and noting the fine grain of the stone. Odd. Fine grain? She took another look at it and rubbed it against her fingertips before realizing that it wasn't a stone or rock of any sort. If anything, it was closest to petrified wood.

Still confused, she poked at it a bit with her wand and cast a revealing charm, which unearthed something akin to the Fidelius charm deep within the wood. She blushed furiously as she nearly tossed it on her nightstand with surprise. He'd told her that she could choose, but this gift said otherwise. This was not a gift from a father or son…

She walked briskly to her table, where breakfast steamed merrily and a pot of tea had been prepared. Love that Dobby. Then she remembered what she had been planning to ask the house elf, whether he had seen someone coming into her room, or perhaps if he'd been asked to do so. She juggled the thought in her mind for a while, and finally decided not to ask him about it. Dobby would worry, she convinced herself. Truthfully, she didn't know why she'd reached such a decision. The sun was just coming up when Hermione finished with her breakfast, leaving her to ponder how early Dobby left breakfast for her and what charm he used to preserve it.

A forceful string of thoughts burst through her mind. The blue scarf with a small topaz at each end! It would need to be left on the mantle soon, before he came back. She searched her drawers for it, before realizing that it was indeed on her desk just as he had told her in the dream. So he had been awake, conscious while she was sleeping. He'd been able to watch her sleep and join her in her dream at the same time. Hermione wondered if she would be able to stay awake through a dream as he had, and her heart raced at the thought. He had complimented her, saying she had a strong mind.

Perhaps only intelligent people could take part in these dreams. That thought strengthened her resolve and she folded the scarf neatly on her mantle. Hermione knew that she would have to master the dreams, so that she might stay awake through them. And perhaps see his face.

"Mione?" Harry's voice came through into her daydreaming. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, Harry, come in." She tucked the folds of her robe in more evenly and patted down her hair. Morning was the worst; she always looked rumpled and disheveled.

He opened the door and slid into the room, quickly and quietly. He was an odd one. Yesterday, he'd been loud and raucous, playing Quidditch and shouting playful insults to Ginny, the other Seeker. Today, this morning, he reverted to his cautious demeanor, making sure of each step and where he put his hands. It was all Auror.

"Good morning, Harry. You're not usually awake this early." Hermione noted, watching him recoil when he realized his hand was resting on her table. It could, after all, turn into a portkey flinging him across the country into Voldemort's grasps. The thought unsettled her, and she looked around her room uneasily.

"Yeah, Ron's up too. Mrs. Figg woke us up early, telling us to get ready because we were going to Hogsmeade. I swear, sometimes that woman is batty. Half the stores aren't even open yet." He put his hands in his pockets. "But she asked me to come wake you up. I don't know why she didn't come herself, but she seemed distracted. So, here I am." He said cheerfully.

"Hogsmeade? Now?" Hermione looked incredulous. This was the worst possible time to go. She had to sit and contemplate the Visit that had taken place last night, she had to sit and wonder what he looked like and who he might be. "Oh, alright, I'll get dressed. I'll be down in a few minutes…just…wait for me downstairs." Hermione said distractedly.

The scarf would either be there or it wouldn't when she got back. He might come into this room.

Harry went over to her mantle to inspect the scarf, smiling fondly at it. "I remember when I got you this, you wouldn't stop wearing it around for nearly a week."

"Yes." She said tersely, feeling guilty about having to give it away. It's not as if the scarf was important to him, she reasoned.

…………………………

The day in Hogsmeade had been blessedly uneventful. Harry still darted his eyes around from time to time when he realized someone had been staring at him, or watching or stalking. He could never be too careful. Ron was loud as usual, careful to make sure everybody knew that No, we were not scared and Yes, I would be there to defend Harry should the unthinkable happen.

Hermione rolled her eyes at his childish display. There would be defending soon enough.

Bella pulled her aside for a second when Harry and Ron had gone to see the new season's brooms. "Did he come?"

Hermione frowned for a second, but then realization came to her. Bella had been awfully curious the other day, perhaps this was some unlived fantasy of hers, "Yes, he did."

"What happened? No, wait, maybe I don't want to hear about that. How does he hide himself?"

"Nothing happened, don't worry about that. He's actually quite kind. And…I was asleep when he came yesterday, we had a dream. He came into my dream and-" Hermione paused, realizing that she might have said too much. This was not a good conversation to have. "I told him…I told him that I didn't want him to come anymore."

"And?"

"He said that if I didn't leave anything for him, he wouldn't come." Hermione concluded, certain that the lie was solid.

Bella breathed out a sigh of relief and gratefully patted Hermione's shoulder, before pulling on her wrist. "You're not wearing it. Has he. Did you-" She didn't need to say it.

"Oh, no I just forgot to put it on today. No, he didn't, we didn't…" Hermione trailed off, blushing at the thought. She thought about the ugly charmed block that she had found that morning. They hadn't, yet. The thought trickled through her mind and reached her toes.

"Alright. I'm glad. Remember, don't leave anything there that he might misconstrue as a gift. Dumbledore hasn't said anything about it, but I'm quite worried myself."

Bella walked off into a different store, muttering to herself, leaving Hermione to think about it. Dumbledore knew now? Harry and Ron caught up with her, with bags full of Quidditch supplies. She couldn't leave them alone for two minutes before they wasted their money. They would go eat a cheap lunch.

Hermione bumped into Draco Malfoy. Actually bumped into him and knocked him backwards a few steps. He merely scowled and kept walking, with a woman that she deduced to be his mother. Narcissa Malfoy.

He'd spent an entire year with Narcissa Malfoy.

To Hermione, the woman didn't seem particularly smart or interesting. Lucius Malfoy was still in hiding. Did any of this have to do with Draco's subservience? He looked so calm - or defeated. The thought made her shudder. Briefly, she considered running after them with questions, but she quelled those thoughts as fast as they had come.

Harry stared at Draco's retreating back in surprise. He turned his eyes to Hermione and asked his silent question, 'what the hell was that?'

Hermione shrugged and turned around, trying to look nonchalant. This question was reserved for her Dream Visitor.

There were an awful lot of people from Hogwarts here today. They milled in and out of stores, and Hermione recognized and chatted with at least five people. Severus Snape walked out of the Apothecary laden with - nothing. He must have had it all owled to the school. She watched him from her table where she ate ice cream with Harry and Ron. He stood there with his arms crossed, apparently waiting for something. His eyes flitted closed for a second, as if he were in deep concentration. Was this some sort of internal correspondence? He might have been conversing with Dumbledore in whatever methods the Order used to do such things.

He opened his eyes and turned his glare to Hermione, daring her to keep staring. Somehow, he knew that she'd been watching him. Oh, of course, Legilimency. She looked down at her melting Strawberry Surprise and carefully avoided his gaze.

'Pompous, self-righteous prick', she thought. She nearly giggled out loud when she wondered what he would make of that if he were still trying to read her mind. Cold drips of ice cream on her arm brought her out of her reverie and back to the task at hand.

………………………

Hermione went to sleep that night with nervous butterflies trying to find their way out by burrowing into her heart. She was almost too nervous. A million questions fluttered in and out of her mind as she gripped her sheets in anticipation. She didn't know why exactly she waited in bed. She could be waiting at her table or desk. She could be waiting by her gift.

Outstandingly, impossibly, she fell asleep there, waiting for him to come. To her great frustration, he didn't, and by morning, she was still floating in her questions and annoyance.

Perhaps he had come. Perhaps she had been asleep when he left. Her present was still smiling down at her from her mantle, and she briefly considered setting it on fire.

………………………..

Yes, this chapter has been somewhat uneventful, but you'll see o.o Oh yes, you'll see. In any case, I'm quite pleased with the result. I know for many of you it must be maddeningly slow paced. Or not. I can't really tell. I need your feedback! I'm liking the slow paced thing, it sets mooood, and flavor and texture and that apple bit was fun. Hermione's fun to fuck around with, she's too smart for her own good. Without any schoolwork to do, she goes crazy.

I have to say thank you to everybody who offered to beta. Seriously, I've gotten like ten offers. Wow. Anyway, I guess I don't need a beta anymore I hope you all like where this story is going, and with a beta, it will be much better. Thanks to everybody for your support, and pleeeeease leave me a wonderful, detailed review in lieu of payment. cackles

-Jenny Yun


	4. A Choice

Hermione felt the unfamiliar tugging, the falling. Into the dream - finally.

The sky was a dark canopy of lightning and rain clouds. The ground was in a similar state of dirt and ruddiness. Hermione considered it for a moment, and decided that however ugly it was, it quite matched her current temperament.

"And what took you so long?" She greeted, not bothering to force him to come out of hiding.

"You won't humor me?" the disembodied voice asked amusedly.

"No, I bloody will not." She stood her ground. Her ground flagged. The dirt on the floor melted under her, enveloping and drowning her with its closeness. It finally gave way and she fell through it into mid air. For a frightening few seconds, Hermione's mind went blank after she had registered that she was falling and she was going to die.

Amazingly, she landed on a solid, yet somehow thickly rubbery surface with the impact of a feather on the moon. She bounced once, and then caught herself on an arm. Arm?

"Ah well." The voice came from directly behind her, causing her to reel around and gasp. His hair was still that amazing shade of gold streaked with red - just like the apple he had given her. He was still graceful like a dancer.

"H-hello." She was suddenly nervous, faced with this intimidating and beautiful creature that she had thought up. To think, she - who couldn't draw stick people properly - had created this image.

"Good evening." The man said, walking toward her. She realized that they were on water, on the lake that he had made for her during his last Visit. "Don't worry, you wont sink again."

She lay rigid against the water that somehow supported her weight. He offered his hand to her and she took it, grateful for the anchor. Slowly, she stood up on the water. It was terrible, feeling as if she would fall into the lake at any second and never again see the light of day.

"It's interesting, isn't it?" He asked, understanding her wariness. "You wont fall, I've made the water solid, but look, it ripples if you touch it."

She bent down and touched a finger to the water, watching the resulting wrinkles expand to the edges of the lake. Interesting.

A picnic appeared before them, and she stared at it dubiously. They'd be eating out on the lake. Literally, on the lake.

"Don't worry, you wont fall through." He reminded her, taking her hand and easing her gently onto the water.

Hermione steadied herself warily before remembering all the things she'd wanted to ask him. Narcissa Malfoy.

"There's… That is, I need to ask you a few things." She blathered, trying not to sound like a complete moron and failing miserably.

"Hm." He said, noncommittally.

"You, why did you stop after Narcissa Malfoy?" She blurted, unable to find some nice, clean way to put it.

"I didn't _stop _after Narcissa Malfoy. I have never Visited Narcissa Malfoy. That was just a rumor she spread for attention." He seemed pensive. The light of the day somehow dimmed, and the sun disappeared behind the canopy of forest to the west.

Hermione didn't like that much. She willed the sun out of its hiding place and smiled as it peeked up from the trees, assembling itself comfortably in the sky. The day had brightened. The man looked up at her in surprise. Astonishment.

"You did that consciously." He said, through a face of hopeless mediocrity.

"Yes. You made it dark." She complained, waving herself with a fan that she had conjured out of the water. His smile broke even and he kissed her hand with delight.

"That, my dear, was very impressive. This calls for something…" He concentrated on a spot in the water.

She was currently struck dumb - he had called her _dear. _Her blush didn't quite reach her toes.

Something was changing in the water though, it was rippling a little too much. Hermione looked up from the water that lapped dryly at her legs and spotted the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. Pale rose coloured dress, 18th century, Hermione surmised. Curled brown hair topped upon her head magnificently. Low, square cut, lace ruffled neckline.

Hermione spent a minute or two admiring the beautiful woman before she realized that it was actually _herself. _Herself, two shades paler, hair curled and gleaming, waist cinched into a tiny corset, and smiling beautifully at the couple sitting on a picnic blanket fifteen feet away - on a lake.

She had just spent the last few moments ogling herself.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by something beautiful. She looked at the man beside her for confirmation, and he nodded at her encouragingly.

The tender trickle of notes was distinctly baroque. High and low, jumping between near octaves. It was beautiful, and skilled, and Hermione knew that outside of this dream, she would never be able to squawk through that astounding aria. She didn't recognize the song at all. Opera, definitely, but Hermione had never heard it before. It sounded vaguely Italian, before she realized that it was, of all things, Latin. Latin - like wizards.

Oh.

Hermione could vaguely pick out the words - something of a lover who had left her to fight in a war. Something something Goblins, Something something undying love.

The words didn't matter - it was the music. An invisible orchestra attempted to catch up to Baroque Opera Hermione's trills and swells and purposeful vibratos, yet they failed astoundingly. It actually sounded as if the orchestra were _supposed_ to just play some childish dissonant attempt at harmony, but Hermione knew better. The woman was too good.

She lifted her pale head dramatically and let loose the most taunting melody Hermione had ever heard. Hermione felt herself giving her heart to this woman, this woman who had lost her fiance in an unfair war, to an unfair curse. And it was a beautiful and painful swell next. A careful ascension, and then she had gone so quiet as to have nearly stopped, but the note came back, stronger, willful. Hermione held her breath when the woman seemed to have paused in her sad song.

A ripple of violins resounded clearly as the water beneath them echoed it wonderfully. The woman sang again. And she was singing softly at first, but then it built, and she layered one note on top of the other, so as to ascend into such a feverish tone and pitch. And she reached it. That note that had Hermione nearly crying. It was yet a sad song, but somehow strong. Somehow ready.

The woman took in a deep, inaudible breath before some last bar, and carefully unfolded in her palms something light and valuable. It was a pale perfume gem, fleshy peach in colour. The last two measures of music ended in a swell, an aching, yearning swell full of desire and sadness. Hermione caught herself swaying to the music and blushed appropriately. The man was watching her.

The woman, finished with her aria and not looking a bit put off at the lack of clapping and _Brava!_ walked gently across the water toward them and kneeled down, skirts billowing and frothing around her magnificence.

A moment later, Hermione found herself kissing her own mirror image. Or being kissed by it. And it was a passionate kiss, full of the song she had sung and heard. Hermione opened herself to it, amazed at the strength and surprising tenderness surrounding her. She opened her eyes and stared right into them. She felt soft hair curtaining around her hands, where she had reached up to hold her pale reflection's face. Hermione smelled something - for the first time in dream, she smelled something sweet and spicy and rosy. Hermione placed her hands firmly upon the Baroque Hermione's shoulders and pulled apart from the kiss, trying to be gentle about it. The scent had intoxicated her, much as the music had.

Her twin had brought her hand up, exposing the pale gem that had been swathed in her palm. Hermione felt the tendrils of scent creeping up to meet her, teasing and playful. She brought up her own hand and took the yellow gem from the woman, looking from it to her own bright, pale face. The second she touched it, though, the woman vanished without a sound, and Hermione found herself leaning into the air that had been occupied by her twin. Recollection found her.

She stared horrified at the man who had seen her Narcissistic display. Oh God.

And then, "Why did you make her look like me? And why did you make her kiss me? And how did you make this?" she gestured at the gem. It was the only thing she had ever scented in the Dream Visits - as she called them.

He looked stricken, then horrified, "You think I'd make you kiss yourself like that?"

She flustered for a second, embarrassed. Could Dream People act of their own volition?

"You are stronger than I thought." He continued, noting her silence, "It's something to create flavor in an apple, and an entirely different thing to control a person. Not a real person, mind, but it is that I had created her to sing for us. And you…changed her. And you made that." He regarded the gem in Hermione's hand.

"I didn't." She said, somewhat disappointedly, "I didn't do that. I didn't make her kiss me, and I didn't make this." She lifted the gem.

"Not consciously, you didn't. But it might have been the music. It's not always something you can control. When you came into the dream today, I was surprised at what firm control you had over your surroundings. Much of it was still rudimentary," He said, and Hermione flinched at his choice of words, "but that you were able to so immerse yourself in what you created…" He trailed off.

Hermione stared at him in shock. She couldn't have wanted to kiss herself. That's sick. And the perfume gem was welcome in this scentless place. Hermione was glad that she had been able to _subconsciously _create it. At least she was progressing to her goal.

"So you brought me back here." She said, surprised at her own words.

"Well, I didn't want to have to share a dream in that place. There was lava." He huffed.

She looked at him again, and noted that his eyes changed. They were dark. Too dark. She smiled at that.

"I have so many questions, but they only seem important to me when I'm awake." She laughed, "And when I'm here… they all just fade away."

He didn't respond, opting to measure her with his stare. She averted her eyes to the water, shy again.

"So you never Visited Narcissa Malfoy."

"No."

"And you've Visited me. Twice."

"What is it you need?" He asked, moving slightly toward her.

She remembered what he had said, the choice he had given her a week ago. A father, a lover, a son.

"A lover, I think." She responded, bringing the scented gem to her lips and placing it in her mouth. It was sweet. She kissed him.

………………………………..

So yeah. This was a fun chapter to write - I like writing about music. I hope it was accurate. And I made Hermione slightly assertive, and at the same time not. Oh well, tell me what you think.

Anyway, if any of you are freaked out about Hermione kissing herself, well, here's a belated apology. Apology.

And if any of you are freaked out about Hermione kissing - uhm unknown (yeah right) mystery man, then you really shouldn't be here. So no apology.

As for the rules for this challenge, I can't give a link! It's at WIKTT, which is a restricted yahoo group, and I can't really link from it. So if you're really interested in the link, I'd advise you to join yahoo groups if you haven't, and then join WIKTT if you haven't, and then look up the "I'm Just a Gigolo" challenge under the files folder. Or you can just enjoy the story as it is. Or you can email me directly, and I'll send you a copy of the rules.

If anybody knows about a real, working link to the challenge rules that I haven't come across, please review or email me at veruslumen at hotmail . com with the information, Thanks.

A big thanks to Maria, who's really an awesome beta. Thanks so much for your help and advice! And I'm sorry for the ungodly long AN I have going on here, but I just couldn't help myself. Remember folks, reviews force me to write faster. They're a magnetic force. I am physically and mentally attracted to them. winks at reviews So if you leave me some, you know you'll get a piping hot chapter out of the mental oven vewwy vewwy soon.

-Jenny


	5. A Change of Plans

It was stupid of Hermione to think the world would stop just because she did. She hadn't even bothered to read the Daily Prophet during her week of anticipation for her Visitor.

She was paying for it now.

"Hermione!" Ron called from downstairs.

Hermione threw a few more things into her bag: the perfume box, an extra pair of shoes, and the carved wooden block. After effectively shrinking her luggage into the size of a matchbook, Hermione pocketed it and left her room with one last glance. Maybe she would never see this place again.

"There you are. Hurry, the Floo connection's only open for about five minutes." Harry said, shrinking his Firebolt carefully.

"What about Bella? She wont be able to-"

"I'm staying here, Hermione." Bella came from her room, "They wont suspect a powerless squib. I'll be able to contact Albus if this perimeter is breached."

"Bella?" Hermione said, taken aback. Was she trying to kill herself?

"Go. Hurry!"

Ron stepped through into the fireplace and yelled into the green flames, "Twelve, Grimmauld Place!"

Harry went next, determinately not breathing in after he got into the fire. Hermione followed, crying for Bella. They both knew.

So this was it. Harry was running now. Voldemort was after him. And none of them were safe.

Trelawney had been kidnapped, tortured as it were, and the Prophecy had been lifted from her with her dying breath. And Harry was the last obstacle.

She tumbled through the fireplace, trying to find a good foothold so she wouldn't fall. Someone gripped her arm to steady her, and she looked up to meet Professor Snape in the eyes. Nervously, she let go of him and went to help Ron, who lay sprawled on the floor. Harry had managed to stay standing, but his glasses were askew.

Hermione looked around the room. Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape, Remus, Mundungus Fletcher, Tonks, Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The entire Weasley family was coming through the Floo now, even Molly and Arthur.

"Ginny!" Hermione shrieked, looking at the terrible mess Ginny had become.

"Hermione! Oh it's terrible!" Ginny sobbed and ran over to Hermione, crying into her shoulder. Hermione looked frantically at the crowd in the room for some kind of explanation as to why the entire Weasley family looked as if they had been sleeping in a trench.

"They went to the Burrow first. They thought Harry would be there for summer." McGonagall gasped, but Arthur continued, "No, we didn't use the fireplace at our home. We ran, after the first night. Some of them tried to follow us, but we gave them the run around. Three portkeys. Paris, Moscow and Hogsmeade, before we took the Floo. Nobody followed us." Arthur looked entirely beaten, and he slumped into the nearest couch.

The twins were draped over each other on the floor, unconscious.

"Why didn't you Apparate?" Hermione demanded, watching the family in horror.

"Haven't you heard? The Ministry's placed Apparation security all over the place. Of course they couldn't prevent you from Apparating, but the chances of getting splinched are two to one now. We couldn't take the chance, especially with Ginny." Bill replied, trying to hoist George, who was still firmly attached to Fred, onto the nearest couch.

Dumbledore sighed, loud enough for everyone to stop talking and look at him. "The Order will be meeting in twenty minutes. Children, I suggest you take the night to rest. We have more than enough room to house all of us. Madam Pompfrey will be coming along very soon, and we do have a few more guests coming."

Dumbledore separated George and Fred, who were in some sort of death grip with one another, and levitated them toward separate couches.

Hermione was still crying. For Ginny, who was still sobbing and shivering into her hair, for Bella, who was sure to meet her death when Voldemort came for Harry, and for herself, for no more reason than everybody else. She was scared.

Still, the crowd recovered from shock and went about, taking their things to the rooms upstairs. Hermione found herself following, and was shocked to notice that even the members of the Order were staying here. Of course, they had to stay with Harry. Protect Harry.

Remus had taken Ron aside, speaking sternly. Instructions, probably, should the worst happen. Hermione didn't want to think about it.

She and Ginny went into their usual room, shuffling their feet and looking as if they had been trampled by a herd of Hippogriffs. Hermione sat on her bed, watching Ginny curl up into her bed and cry herself to sleep. All of it was too intense, just yesterday, she had been sharing a beautiful dream with her Visitor. She wondered if he was the one who had given them up to Voldemort, despite Ginny's assurances.

She resolved to speak to Dumbledore before the meeting for the Order began.

On her way downstairs, Hermione noticed the fire. It had turned green. Two people came through it, holding what looked to be six suitcases. She gawked as one of the figures rose to dust off her robes. Narcissa Malfoy. Unbelievingly, she watched as the second figure turned around to face her. Draco.

Other people were crowding around the doorway now, wanting to see who had come through. Several of them were shocked, and others sounded relieved. Snape and Dumbledore came into the room.

Narcissa smiled at Dumbledore, extending her hand despite her somewhat bedraggled appearance. Dumbledore kissed her hand and straightened himself, "Welcome, Narcissa, Draco. I'm glad you were able to make it safely."

Harry was watching with an expression of horror on his face, looking back and forth from Draco to Dumbledore. Hermione watched Draco, too astounded to speak. What were Death Eaters doing in Grimmauld Place. And why were they welcomed so warmly by Albus Dumbledore?

She gasped in shock and mute horror as Draco pelted across the room and embraced Snape in a rigid grip. She could hear him crying through Snape's robes, holding on desperately. She was not the only one surprised.

Everybody in the room turned to stare at the spectacle, and Snape pulled apart from Draco, whispering something to him. Hermione was astonished at the display. She had never seen either of them so emotional.

Dumbledore cleared his throat again, "Do not be alarmed. Narcissa and Draco are on the run from Voldemort and Lucius Malfoy. Narcissa is part of the Order now, and Draco will be staying with us for the remainder of the summer."

The stunned silence did not abate.

But Dumbledore still swept out of the room with all the grace he ever had, and the members of the Order followed him into their meeting. Hermione forgot to tell him about her Visitor. She was still staring at Draco, who was now standing up straight to meet them. His tears were still there.

Harry started first, unsure, "What are you doing here?"

"Potter." He managed to say it somewhat venomously, "I'm here to protect your arse from Voldemort. Does that make you happy?"

"What?" Harry stood his ground, but he was even more unsure now. It wasn't everyday that an enemy suddenly became a…bodyguard.

"I see Dumbledore's left it to me to tell you, that idiot." Draco started, to a reproachful glare from Harry, "But my father has absolutely lost his head and decided that you, for some reason, have to die. My mother was a Death Eater turned spy for Dumbledore, like Seveurs." He paused, trying to contain his emotions, "So of course we couldn't let the Golden Boy here die, and now we're running away from Malfoy Manor and coming into this sad excuse of a pureblood's home."

He certainly was able to revert from Pathetic, Crying Boy to Aristocratic Snob in a matter of seconds. Hermione inched toward Harry, willing him to maintain some modicum of composure. Surprisingly, Harry did not pull out his wand and hex Draco into next Sunday, but kept his arms lax at his sides.

"So you're here, and we're supposed to believe that you're not a spy for You-Know-Who." Ron broke the silence.

"Well, _you _don't have to believe me. It's not as if your opinion matters, Weasley. But Dumbledore believes us, so you can make what you want of that."

"Harry," Ron said, trying to gauge his reaction. Harry just stood there, staring at Draco with his eyes wide.

"You really don't need to worry about me," Draco huffed and crossed the room to the stairs, "If I wanted to kill you, Harry, I would have done it a long time ago. Oh, and we're to sleep in the same room, Dumbledore's orders."

With that, he started up the stairs with some effort, as he was limping on his left leg.

Hermione regarded what had become of the room. George and Fred were still lying on their respective couches, looking for all the world as if they had been beaten repeatedly by Bludgers. Ron was crossing the room to sit next to his brothers, examining them as if he could help. And Harry - well Harry was still standing in the same position as when Malfoy had left, mouth still gaping.

Hermione fought the impulse to laugh. This was no situation for that kind of behavior. She was too tired to consider when to talk to Dumbledore, or what to do for Harry. She was just too tired.

She left Harry, Ron and the twins in the parlor and climbed the staircase to her room, where Ginny still slept. Hermione found the matchbook sized suitcase she had placed in her pocket just a few hours ago. Enlarging it to its normal size, she looked through her things and found what she was looking for. Gently, she placed the perfume box on the old night table next to her bed. She fell asleep there, wondering if her Dream Visitor would be able to find her in Grimmauld Place, and wondering if he did indeed betray her to Voldemort.

………………………………...................

So, tell me if you liked this chapter! And leave a review! Yay! The pacing's a bit different for this particular chapter, but once again, You'll see. Oh, you'll see.

And a note to Dragon kiss - If I'm pleased with the chapter, I'll say I'm pleased with it. And of course I have a plot. BTW, thanks for your compliments on my writing, I appreciate it. Wait for the story to unfold, I may surprise you yet.

Thanks again to my marvelous beta, Maria, whose help is really invaluable. We were able to work out all the story twists together Again, Review and I'll put up another chapter soon

Love,

Jenny


	6. Understanding

Hermione had woken up after a few prods of Ginny's wand. Apparently, she was late for breakfast - her muscles ached and her head hurt. She had been in the middle of a nightmare about running away from an invisible Dragon who spouted flames and burned all her homework. Ginny had thoughtfully poked her awake in the middle of "No! Not my Charms essay!"

They went down to breakfast.

"-And I have to be alone with them, Poppy." Snape's voice came through from the parlor.

"It's just, what if something goes wrong, Severus? We'll need someone to pull you out!" Madam Pomfrey's voice was near frantic, and Hermione paused to eavesdrop.

"If something does go wrong, Draco will know, and he will come, alright? For this, I have to be alone." Snape removed her from the room with something not so much as force, but with a gentle shove.

"Well, be it upon your head, Severus, if something goes wrong," Pomfrey huffed and left the room. "Off to breakfast, you two." She shoved Ginny and Hermione decidedly less gentle.

They shared significant glances when Madam Pomfrey was out of sight, but did not go back to the makeshift hospital wing.

"G'morning," Harry said glumly from the table. Ron, Harry and Draco all looked incredibly tired - they had probably all stayed awake to make sure they wouldn't get stabbed in the back in their sleep. Hermione sighed - her boys would never change.

"So, get any strategizing done?" She asked in a chipper tone, but only received glares.

Ron piped in, "Oh yes, I've figured out a way to keep myself from getting killed. See, it worked." And he extended his hands for inspection.

Hermione rolled her eyes and sat across from Harry, who was looking even worse on closer inspection. He had a bruise on his left cheek.

"Harry, what's that from?" Ginny asked without tact.

"Noth'n.," he replied, shrugging.

Ron mouthed 'Malfoy' to her and Ginny gasped.

But at that point, the other members of the Order arrived, yawning and stretching in the doorway.

"Where's Sev'rus?" Tonks asked, in the form of a hairy, middle-aged man. Her voice was the same as always though, and it formed a bizarre image. Tonks shut her eyes and screwed up her face in concentration, reverting back to her normal self, "Ahh, Minerva made me do that. 'Parently, she doesn't trust Remus," and she winked at him. Remus just looked down at his plate.

Harry gasped, Ron shouted "Blimey!" and Draco just raised his eyebrows.

Before anybody could question Remus, a terrible, blood-curdling shriek rose from the parlor, where Snape was working on Fred and George. Instantly, the room was in an uproar as several Aurors tried to get up from their seats and rush out of the room. Draco got out first.

Hermione followed to find a room full of people when she got there. She saw Draco leaning over one of the twins' bodies, pressing his hands at his temples. Snape had his fingers over the other twin's temples

"GET OUT, GET OUT! YOU DON'T BELONG HERE!" Fred screamed with his eyes shut tightly. He was curling himself into a ball now, and alternated between moans of agony and girlish screams of terror.

George's body lay prone on the floor, deathly motionless.

"Don't take him! He's mine!" Fred whined, but his eyes were still shut as if he were talking to somebody in his head.

But suddenly, he lay quite still, his muscles suddenly limp though he was still breathing rapidly. Draco had collapsed to the floor, unconscious, but Snape stood up slowly, completely drained.

He looked furious. "Poppy. I thought I told you not to come," he said, with a false calm to his voice.

Pomfrey didn't seem to care, "Severus, but he was I _screaming_."

Snape put his hands to his own temples and rubbed furiously, "They'll be fine."

With that, he left the parlor and climbed the stairs to his own bedroom, muttering curses under his breath.

Draco woke up slowly, as if fighting it. He extended his hand above his eyes and scrutinized it, as if to make sure that it was his own hand. But he rose as peacefully as one who had just woken up from a nap and even stretched convincingly.

"They'll need a few night's rest, and they're to be kept in separate rooms," he spoke slowly and left the room in Snape's wake.

The entire room was in shocked silence after the two had left. Eventually, Madam Pomfrey took it to herself to rush everybody out of the room to make the twins comfortable, but she kept them far apart, as if they would wake up and latch to each other again.

Hermione spent the rest of the day pondering what had happened, and finally fell asleep - tired, aching, and full of the Dreamless Sleep potion that Ginny had forced on her.

The scent - so tender and small - the scent was beckoning her into a different sort of sleep.

The subtle spice and rose were like small hands, clutching at her, summoning her forward into another landscape. She felt herself lift from her sleep into the Dream where she would meet her lover.

But the landscape, like her previous dream, was filled with dust and smoke. The ground under her bare feet was muddy with a green tinged sludge. The air above her was thick and dark, yet scentless like all her Dreams. But she could feel a strange pull, like a summons to the vast mountain that spouted clumps of lava at short intervals.

On to the mountain then, where perhaps she would find the Dream Visitor.

The walk was tedious. She was shivering in her nightgown, which was now tattered and soiled with the muck under her feet. Her hair was blowing every which way, regardless of the fact that she could feel no wind. Her mistrust hit her then.

This dream was a product of her own imagination. She did not trust the man in her Dreams. He might have betrayed her. Still, her realization of this fact did nothing to dispel the gloom that surrounded her. Resignedly, she climbed the mountain.

It was tedious work, this mountain business. She had climbed for what felt like hours before she reached the top. She would not have recommended it to anybody, and she personally wanted to shoot any mountain climbing enthusiasts by the end of it. A sudden tearing of wind pointed Hermione in the right direction. This was the end of her Dream. Her lover was not here, and she had only just realized that she'd created it all by herself when that tendril of scent came back to her. It was so mysterious, yet somehow comforting. Like her lover.

She turned to where the wind blew and found an entirely different landscape. The sun peered genially over a small meadow that was secluded in a forest of trees. She watched from her mountaintop as birds flew together in their mating ritual.

Hermione turned around to find her own massacre of a landscape disappeared. It was blank, her entire journey. There was no proof of her hours long trek but the tattered mess of her nightgown and the ache in her muscles.

She turned again, resolving to walk down this side of the mountain and find out who the creator of this new Dream was. Hermione certainly couldn't have created it in this foul mood.

As she passed, she noticed several odd and somehow personal objects strewn about. This Dream must have been created a long time ago, developed with time. She found a sleeping dragon waiting for her at the foot of the mountain. It puffed its dreams lazily, waiting for something to happen in the languid way that dragons do. Hermione shifted nervously, trying to find a way around it, before she realized that this was a Dream.

Could she be hurt in a dream? She regarded her muscles wearily - they certainly did ache. Carefully, making sure not to step on any twigs, she inched around its tail, her back pressing desperately against the curtain of trees that refused her any access. Whoever had created this dream had certainly attempted to fortify it against intruders with…sleeping dragons. She thought frantically for a second about accidentally tickling it with her toes. It would not do to tickle a sleeping dragon.

After clearing that obstacle, she walked more carefully, dodging the snakes and small round Remembralls that dogged her path. A Quidditch broom rested silently against a large oak, and she noted it with disdain. Quidditch was really not her game.

But that scent was still beckoning her, calling Hermione into him. Her lover was waiting just on the other side of this door. Door? And certainly a door and part of a stone wall appeared in front of her, as if answering her call. She opened it gingerly, trying with everything she had to be quiet. The mood of this dream had become intense.

"Please, you need to understand!" Draco Malfoy's voice rang clearly through the room she had just entered. It appeared to be the Slytherin common room.

"And if I send you in her place? I will tell you this now, Draco; you are no more favored by your father than a pile of dragon dung. Your mother, at least, will be able to hold her own against him. I won't have you die for nothing!" A crisp, angry voice resounded against the walls.

She looked closer, and saw the back of him. True, finally, it was her lover. The scent enveloped her further in its warmth.

"What - your hair. It's gone all light…" Draco pointed in shock at his hair. "Why do you look like that?"

"It isn't - Oh Dear God!" Her lover turned around in horror and spotted her, leaning conspicuously into a huge marble column and trying to hide herself.

"Hermione!" he said, and his voice was different now, it was exactly how she remembered him. He rushed over to her hiding place and saw what had become of her. "Why are you all muddy? How did you get here?"

Suddenly, Draco was at their side, "Who is she, Severus? I don't want to see people right now, I need to talk to you." And Draco waved his hand at Hermione, obviously trying to dispel a made up person - like the one she had kissed on the lake.

"Severus?" Hermione squeaked. "Severus Snape?"

The man blanched. He was suddenly rigid as a statue. Draco looked shocked, back and forth between Severus and Hermione before realization dawned on him.

"So this is her, is it? This is who you've been talking about?" Draco looked her up and down, "She's not very hygienic, is she?"

Hermione bristled at that comment, but then looked herself over and noted that it did have some merit. She pulled at her hair and felt it matted to her skull. Her face must be so dirty as to be unrecognizable. Draco still stared at her appraisingly. Her lover had a pained expression on his face. But that was Severus Snape with a disguise of grace, beauty and blonde hair. She then realized that her weakest moments had been given to this man. She had kissed him.

"It's - to get her bathed. Draco, would you mind conjuring a bathtub?" Severus seemed to have gained some control over himself.

"No!" Hermione screeched at once. The thought of bathing in someone else's dream sent her swinging back into this pseudo reality. She reeled around and contorted her face with concentration. The only thing she could think of was the singer on the lake, and she felt air against her neck as her hair swept itself up into gleaming curls. She felt the weight of a heavy dress pressing itself against her hips and her corset cinched somehow comfortably against her. When she opened her eyes, she found a full-length mirror suddenly in front of her and her reflection found her to be clean and Baroque. She grimaced at the fanciful layers of cloth, but kept it all the same.

And then she remembered the two men standing just to the left of her.

"It was you!" Hermione and Draco said in unison. Hermione to Severus and Draco to Hermione. This dream was undoubtedly the most shocking she had ever shared.

Hermione stared bewildered at the man who had come to her in her dreams, watching her and supporting her. He still had the appearance of her Dream lover, but that changed quickly. He reverted into something that was half Severus Snape and half what Hermione had imagined him to be. His nose became more prominent, but his hair stayed that curious shade of apple. He was still lean and graceful as a dancer, but he took on a more brooding look. Hermione tried to discern what this man had been trying to accomplish by befriending her.

Draco stood suddenly and began to pace his made up common room.

Hermione said, slowly, "So it was you. You two and the twins."

Severus straightened himself, going into the more comfortable topic, "They were latched to each other, mentally. When Albus separated their bodies, they ran away and stayed together in Fred Weasley's body. I had to separate them again." he said, motioning to Draco, "They were not willing, and it took more effort than I though it would."

She nodded at this information, but it was not at all satisfying. This wasn't what she wanted to know, but with Draco here, she couldn't imagine asking him anything more personal.

"I don't know how to wake up," Hermione said, in her smallest voice. She had come into this dream against her will, and she had the suspicion that she wasn't even in her own body anymore - that her soul was somewhere else.

"Hermione. You are too strong without the skill to control your strength. Draco was much the same when he was younger, but I was able to teach him. Will you allow me?" he asked with his voice somehow strained.

Hermione looked at Draco again, who was glaring at a painting of flying boars.

"Why do I need to know?" Hermione asked, trying to avoid his eyes.

"Albus asked me to teach you," Snape said, "But you need to know for your own safety, and for the Order."

"So I can…I can do what you did for Fred and George?"

"Yes," he looked at her appraisingly.

"I would like to…be useful," she said, still wondering how much help she could be. She extended the private thought to him: _I want to talk to you alone._

"I can hear you, you know," Draco said from the couch, "It's my head, after all."

Hermione blushed, surprised at her own ability to send thoughts instead of speak aloud. Snape just smiled at her.

"Draco, you will not leave Grimmauld Place, no matter what your mother chooses to do. I will escort Hermione back to her own body," he said, extending his arm to her.

She muttered a small "Bye" to Draco before taking Snape's arm and leaving. Suddenly, being in this close proximity to her Dream Lover was much more nerve wracking after she'd found out who he was.

When they had left the Dreamed Hogwarts castle, Snape whistled. A whoosh of wind and the sleeping dragon came upon them. Its head was bowed low, allowing them access to its back.

Hermione climbed on apprehensively and shut her eyes after she sat on it's back. It was in a dream, perhaps, but terrifying nonetheless. She clamped her arms around her lover when they took off.

Suddenly, the ground was nothing but a blur of green. They came closer to the mountain and the dragon stopped at the top of it.

"Call another one." Snape whispered to her, and she whistled tentatively.

And a giant flying otter came to greet them. Hermione near laughed aloud when it gamboled in midair and Snape was trying to keep his face straight. They climbed onto it's slippery back and flew down gracelessly into the rapidly brightening landscape. Suddenly, the smoke and ruddiness disappeared and she was greeted with the lake and forest of her previous dream.

"You did that yourself, actually," he said, smiling at her. She liked that smile.

"Er…Professor, I-" Hermione paused, wretched in her insecurity.

"Severus, that is," he said, staring at her unassumingly, "I'm sorry I kept my identity from you."

Hermione nodded, unsure of what to say. 

"I was to assess your strength, and Albus' guess was a good one. I suppose you could say I've done the same with Draco-" Hermione coughed and stared at him incredulously, to which he shook his head fervently, "No! Not like that. Albus doesn't know …everything," he finished lamely.

"I see," Hermione managed, trying to school her face into a calm expression, despite the butterflies in her stomach.

Severus tensed and looked in shock at something above her right shoulder, and she turned her eyes to what he was staring at. She found duplicates of Severus and herself snogging quite passionately against a tree. Hermione wondered what was happening for a second, and then realized that the display had been created by her own rampaging subconscious. That was what she wanted, wasn't it?

"Oh shit." Mortified, she turned around and leapt into the air, caught by her flying otter. She exited the dream and landed painfully back into consciousness. Her eyes stung, and she realized that she had been sleeping with her eyes open for too long. She blinked them closed for a second and was relieved to feel them watering up.

She heard a soft laughter from her bedside, and she saw Severus Snape smiling down at her. He patted her hair and smoothed it down before saying softly, "Goodnight, Hermione."

He left the room quietly, without waking Ginny.

Longest chapter I've ever written. Ever. And that, I suppose, is pretty sad, but seriously. That was frustrating. I actually combined two chapters, because they weren't long enough : / Ah well. Tell me what you think - this chapter took the longest to write (nearly a week! Oh my.) and it was undoubtedly the most difficult. And I'm still unsure as to its quality. So yes, please tell me what you think, so I can correct whatever I'm doing wrong.

Thanks oodles to my beta Maria, for giving me advice with my plot, and to Dryad, my new grammar/flow beta! Hopefully, the quality of my work will be better now? yawns I'm so tired though, and not very cogent - so please, help me help myself. Give me reviews o.O

Lurv,

Your Adorably Asian Jenny


	7. A New Order

Scented

Chapter 7

Hermione felt the soft bedding around her. She was bundled up in it, warm and comfortable. She could still feel the gritty sting in her eyes, because she had kept them open in last night's Dream, but it was alright. Because she knew who he was. And it only made her excited to think he would look at her in such a way, as if he could love her.

Nervously, she shifted over onto her side, and watched as Ginny slept. Ginny, she thought, knew more than she let on. Of course she would have to, having been surrounded by boys her entire life and probably threatened to keep her mouth shut on more than one occasion. No, Ginny would not be her problem. Ron, Harry, Fred, George. Draco.

Resignedly, she left her comfortable bed and got dressed. Today could be a long day - or a very short one. One should always be prepared.

"Hermione?" Ginny propped her elbow against her pillow, "What time is it?"

"Too late for you to be sleeping. I can hear the boys down there." Hermione forced a bristly brush through her hair and winced as it snagged.

"Right." Ginny sat up and yawned into her hand, "You might think I was blind, Hermione."

"I know you're not, Ginny." Hermione stood from the vanity at the end of the room and padded out of the room in her house slippers. Ginny would keep her secret.

"'Mione!" George took her up in a fierce hug, and Hermione cursed the resulting headache.

"G'morning George…Fred…Whatever. Er… shouldn't you be resting?" Hermione managed through her headache.

"I am resting! How else do you think Fred and I would rest? Sleeping? Phaw!" George grabbed her hands and did a Merry Jig with her down through the hallway. Hermione tolerated it, seeing as this was his 'rest'.

"So how do you feel?" Hermione said at the end of their odd jig down the stairs.

"Great! Fantastic, Superberific! But honestly? I feel like shit, and so does Fred. He's rather depressed right now, so I wouldn't bother him. Still sleeping, that one," George tsked and walked past her into the kitchen.

Hermione followed, dreading the morning. Suddenly, she felt awkward, scared she might see Severus.

She froze when she heard a deep chuckle behind her, "So, did you think you could avoid me forever?"

Someone grabbed her arms and kept her from turning around. Was this Severus or…

"Malfoy, let go of me!" Hermione spun around and came threateningly close to his face with her fist.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. Or take advantage of you - That's for Severus to do, isn't it?" He laughed again at the look of outrage on her face, "But to be completely honest, he's never revealed himself to anybody but me in the Dreams, so you should be honored. And anyway, I must say I can't make fun of you anymore."

Hermione crossed her arms and stood defensively, "I'm not going to go fishing about asking questions, so just tell me what you want with me."

"I thought you'd be excited, Granger!" He shifted his weight and looked at her smugly, "'Cause you're no Mudblood. So I've said it. Mudbloods can't take part in the Dreams, you know. Their minds aren't developed enough."

"Is that so?" Hermione demanded, curiosity burning through her. But she left him with a piercing glare and turned around. She left him in between hallways, in front of the portrait of Lady Black. She wouldn't take his bait like that.

She came into the kitchen to find most of the room packed. The place had really filled up over the last few days, and Hermione vaguely wondered if it was at all a secret anymore. 12 Grimmauld Place.

She spotted Severus across the room, and quickly averted her eyes. Too many people for any confusion such as theirs'. She took a seat on one of the stools that lined the floor around the countertop. There was breakfast set out for a crowd, and Hermione took a plateful.

Hermione heard a murmur about Narcissa Malfoy's 'mission'. Another thing she'd have to ask Severus.

"Miss Granger. If I may have a word?" Severus voice cut clearly behind her, and she spun around in alarm - flinging her plate of food into his person. He caught it midair, preserving the food atop it, and handed it gently back to her.

"Oh! I'm so sorry. I didn't mean -"

"It's fine. Nothing spilled, see?" And he made an exaggerated self inspection.

"Uhm, what was it you needed?" Hermione said nervously, glancing about to see if anybody was staring. They weren't.

"In a different room, if you please. The walls may have ears, but people have eyes." He said cryptically, Hermione frowned to herself.

She looked about again and followed him into the parlor. The twins had been unconscious on those couches just yesterday.

"I'm sorry to take you from your breakfast, but there's something important I think we should discuss before we leave."

"Leave? Where are we going?"

"To Hogwarts, of course." He smiled wryly at her, but continued, "You're expected, along with Draco, Potter, Weasley and a few others. The girl too, I suppose, as she's had some experience fighting against the Dark Lord."

"Wait, what are you talking about?" Hermione found herself taking a step back, alarmed at the early end to the vacation, and at having to leave the safety of Grimmauld place, even if only for a few hours before they reached Hogwarts.

"We're forming an as yet unnamed students' Order, under Dumbledore and myself. And do you need to guess who'll be secretary?" Again, that smile. She almost lost concentration as to what he was saying.

"For school? I mean, at school?"

"Yes, Hermione. At school, to weasel some of the younger ones out, and to form new allies. All surreptitiously of course, we cannot draw attention to ourselves."

Hermione glanced at the doorway, and then back at him, "But why are you telling me now? Why hasn't Dumbledore announced it?"

Severus paused and ran his hand through his air, "It seems Headmaster Dumbledore has found it best that I should oversee this Miniature Order for some ungodly reason. I've got much more important things to do, but I'll have to take care of you lot as well."

Hermione nodded her assent, looking thoughtfully at the fireplace. Was that a wink, or a shifting of the logs?

He interrupted her thoughts, "I'm afraid this will leave little time for Dreams."

She quickly turned and met his eyes. There the truth was plain. He wanted her.

Hermione closed her eyes and swallowed. Too intense. And she lifted her eyes again.

"It's alright. The scent of the dream follows us. I can live with that." Hermione gasped, and the world twirled a little faster when Severus came into her with his Legilimency. She could have felt violated, or hurt, or anything but this terrible trust. He did not see her fear or desire, but only her perception of him. Her eyes stung, but it was a thing she noticed as being outside of herself. The world now was Severus and Herself and this scent that came like waves on water.

The blackness in his eyes was something new now, and something beautiful. She shut her eyes, overwhelmed by that emotion that had no name. Her heart beat faster, and she glanced about with uncertainty flooding through her. The room was still empty, but Severus had a carefully blank expression on his face.

"Was that…was that Legilimency?" Hermione asked, eyes wide with fear or confusion.

"Yes." He offered, but nothing more.

"And do I have the…ability?"

"Yes." He closed his eyes and sighed. "And you shouldn't have it. But you do. And your life is hell because of it."

"Why?" Hermione asked, intrigued.

"Because now we'll have to use you for our ends. Did you think Albus forced me to scour your mind just for fancy Dreams?" Severus dismayed, this was not good.

Hermione stared at him with her mouth open in a silent gasp. Scour? "I don't understand."

"And now you will. Sit down." He proffered the nearest sofa and sat across from her. "You may hate it, or you may enjoy being important to us. Regardless, you will have to serve the Order as a Dream Walker. The first night I came into your Dream, that was Walking. I was gentle. Usually, I'm not."

She stared at him, slowly comprehending his meaning.

"And neither will you be. You're good at it, Hermione, but I wont lie to you. You'll need a lot of work before you can kill a man in his sleep, or have him befit with such nightmares that he will never wake. And never leave any signs of a struggle. There is no green light. A woman, or a snake sleeping next to the victim will not notice the dying until it is too late. There will be no connection to you, or to the Order, or to Dream Walking at all." He ended with the eyes of an assassin. She could feel her throat constricting at his meaning.

"Professor Dumbledore…knows about the Dreams? He suggested it?" Hermione asked timidly.

"More like ordered it, but here we are… And before you ask - no, he doesn't know about our rela… us. And so I'd prefer to keep it." He looked away from her, into the fire. Suddenly, she was pushed violently to the floor. She could hear Severus shouting something and running toward the fireplace. She gently eased herself up and watched as he pushed his hands into the blazing fire and pulled on something.

Draco came tumbling through, gasping for breath.

"Where did you come from!" Severus shouted at the sooty boy.

"No, nowhere! I was upstairs…I just wanted to know what you were talking about." Draco shook himself off and looked petulantly at Severus and then herself. She felt herself blush at what he must have figured out by now. "And it's not as if I'd tell about you two…"

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Alright. How many months has it been since I've updated? For that, I'm so so sorry. There were a lot of personal things going on, and yahoo deleted my account for some reason, so I'll have to take care of that. Blah. Thanks for supporting me and everything. And don't worry, this fic will be completed! Definitely. I'll try to update more often, but my schedule is hectic lately.

Please Read and Review, and I'll love you a lot

-Jenny


	8. Love and Fear

Scented

Hermione braced herself for her own retaliation. She wanted to rip Draco's head off his shoulders and put it on a pike, to make an example for anybody else who wanted to take advantage of Severus and herself.

"Repeat that, Draco?" Severus' voice was infuriatingly calm at this point, and Hermione only wanted to shake the two men and cram sense into their heads.

"Let me go. My mother will stay here, in your company, and I will go to Hogwarts alone. You and Granger can…develop your relationship… and I will brave Voldemort and attain spoils and glory for all of us." He said, smirking into the fireplace from whence he came.

"And you actually believe I'll let you blackmail me into this?" Severus raised an eyebrow, incredulous.

"Of course not. But I thought I'd ask to see how secret you wanted to keep yourselves." He grinned and broke out into laughter, indicating Hermione with a flourish of his hand.

"Right." Hermione interrupted, "I'm not exactly sure how sane you two are, but I'd rather not be a part of your ridiculous power games. If there's any blackmailing to be done, you'll do well to leave me out of it." She pushed herself up and left the room with as much dignity as she could muster.

As far as she knew, Severus and Draco were friends, and they could figure out their quarrel without her involvement. She only hoped Draco wouldn't be stupid enough to tell anybody, in which case she really would have to dirty her hands by putting his head on a pike.

"Oh! George!" Hermione squawked, trying not to fall over, "Don't put your foot out like that. You'll kill someone!"

George looked up in surprise, and smiled awkwardly, "Ah. Sorry, Hermione. Didn't see you there."

Hermione noticed his quiescence and frowned slightly at him, "What is it? Is something wrong?"

George smiled and leaned back a little on his seat on the stairs, "I think my quatrain this morning to Fred's nose might have been a tactical mistake. He didn't laugh or anything…just hugged me."

"What?" Hermione asked, astonished, "You read poetry to Fred about his nose?"

"Oh yes, it had such a delightful rhyme scheme to it too. But alas, I think I've broken his poor heart." George raised his hand to his forehead with an expression of dismay. "And to think, he used to love it when I read to his nose."

Hermione laughed hesitantly, because she couldn't tell if he was actually being serious. "I'm sure…I'm sure when he feels a bit better, he'd like to hear more about his nose. Just give him time."

"Yes, that's probably the wise thing to do." George sighed and took Hermione's hand.

"Your nose shines brightly in the light,

Where bogies do not come to sight,

I made time through all the way,

To watch you sniffle every night!"

George ended his recitation by kissing the tip of her nose, and then screaming something to the measure of "It's got me! The bogie's got me!" which, of course, woke Lady Black into a tantrum of screams. Remus ran down the stairs to quiet her and glared at George, who was still holding Hermione hands with an amorous expression. Remus flushed as he turned around a went back upstairs, obviously thinking they had been in the middle of a snog.

"Wonderful," Hermione snorted, "Just what I needed."

"It was good for me too, babe." George winked at her, and turned around to follow Remus upstairs.

So she was a little bit unruffled when Severus cleared his throat from the doorway. Draco seemed to have disappeared, and Severus was leaning against the wall with a smug expression. "I take it they're feeling better?"

Hermione smiled at him, embarrassed. "I do hope that wasn't a fever induced poem, though."

They laughed a little, but an uncomfortable silence blanketed them, filled with uncertainty and some restlessness. Neither of them moved for a few minutes, and they simply looked at each other. Hermione imagined him with the smooth hair tied into a ponytail, blond and red and orange like an apple. And she entered through his eyes.

He was there, and she was. This was something she hadn't experienced before, though. She looked through his eyes as if they were her own, and she could feel his presence beside her. Her body was prone, on the floor, and apparently, she had fallen over when she left her body. She heard footsteps with unfamiliar ears, and her peripheral view swayed a little as Severus moved their head to where the noise had come from. Dumbledore stood at the foot of the stairs, staring from their body to Hermione's.

She heard the familiar velvet of Severus' voice through their vocal chords, "A bit of experimenting, on her part. She's here with me."

Hermione watched in awe as she controlled their right hand to form a victory sign at Albus. Severus watched in horror. Dumbledore merely chuckled, "Good work, Miss Granger. I expect you'll be able to make him smile in less than an hour's work." And he walked off in the deceptively senile fashion that he'd undertaken recently. As if there wasn't a genius and mastermind behind that genial façade.

"You think he's evil do you?" Severus said aloud, but to himself. Herself. He could hear her thoughts.

And she used his voice, "Not evil, just deceptive. And why isn't this Imperius?" She asked, fearful that she'd broken some unspoken law and would be promptly shipped off to Azkaban.

No, I'm letting you in here. Even one who did not know Legilimency could cast you out easily, but I quite enjoy your company.

Hermione laughed and the sound was so foreign to her she abruptly stopped. _Don't you feel violated? I mean, my taking over your body… _Hermione thought to him. She didn't know how she would feel if he were to take over her body.

There is a great deal of trust involved when a person allows someone to enter his body. He replied, and that was that. He deposited her gently back into herself, and Hermione came back feeling strangely aware of her surroundings.

"It does put things into perspective, after you've seen through someone else." Severus remarked, and Hermione could only nod in agreement.

It was only now that she noticed how alone they were, and in such close proximity. He had had to touch her temples to insert her back into her body safely, and so he was bending over her, kneeling on the ground with his arms to either side of her shoulders. Hermione need only bend up slightly and she could steal a kiss. Was it just her, or was he coming closer? His breath appeared to be as short as her own, and the scent hit her with full force. That tiny gem her twin on the lake had bestowed upon her. The kiss they had shared, and now this scent that intoxicated them both. It was a deep aroma, reminiscent of the Dream and of the kiss, and all they could do was fall into it.

Obviously, kissing in the middle of a house filled with people was no way to get any privacy.

"You two at it already?" Draco's mirth was evident. "You're lucky it's only me. I'd have thought you would keep yourselves secret, but I guess there's no point in me keeping my mouth shut."

The scent had vanished, along with the stolen moment with her Dream Lover. Now all she had was regret that they'd been caught. Hermione had almost reached something beyond that scent, and she was eager to know it.

Severus was undeniably red in the face, probably cursing himself for his momentary lapse in good Public Conduct. Draco tsked and walked back upstairs, catching Harry at the end of the stairs. They seemed to have gotten on better terms, though Hermione couldn't imagine how that would come about. She watched as Severus betrayed his emotions on his face for a few precious seconds. Anger, frustration, guilt, and apology. All quick, in succession. She resisted the urge to chuckle, and instead looked around quickly before planting a firm kiss on his mouth. His resulting intake of breath was more than worth the risk of being caught.

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Hermione decided that, though she would be leaving for Hogwarts in less than a week, she would need to speak to Fred, and perhaps knock some sense into him. He hadn't left his room for two days, and she would break his sullen attitude before they had to leave. His melancholy was grating on everybody's nerves, George's most, she surmised. George. He tried to put on a brave face, made jokes, poems to people's noses. But inside, she felt him thinking about all of it - the war, Fred, all the people that might die.

She found herself in front of Fred's door, verging on either knocking or kicking it open in frustration. She opted for the former, and called gently, "Fred? It's Hermione. I think we should talk."

There was silence for a moment, and then Fred replied grimly, "Maybe you could slip a note under the door, and I'll get to it eventually."

"Fred, please talk to me. Or talk to somebody, just do anything but sit on your bed all day looking at your hands." Hermione paused, and then tried something else.

"Your nose shines brightly in the light,

Where bogies do not come to sight,

I made time through all the way,

To watch you sniffle every night!"

Another pause, and there was a half sob - half snicker coming from the room. She took this as her cue to enter.

What she saw when she entered was not good. Not good. Fred and George were lying in bed, hands tightly clasped and eyes wide in fear and shock. They'd been found out.

"Hermione! Who said you could come in!" George hollered, apparently holding down Fred, who had taken on a mad look, in his eyes and in his hands, which were trying to disentangle from George and maybe do something to hurt her person. Hermione winced at the thought.

"Fred wasn't talking at all, was he?" Hermione said more than asked, and shot a look of pity to George as she edged closer, despite the glares.

"No." George winced as Fred tried again to get free of him, his eyes and hair wild like a hurt animal.

"You two…really shouldn't be doing this. You can't turn into one person." Hermione said, frantically trying to piece the situation together. "I'll get Professor Snape."

"NO!" George and Fred shouted together. That really had been the only thing Fred said to her.

"You can't do this!" Hermione protested, but watched avidly as both their eyes went blank, and they disappeared into one another again. Hermione panicked.

Severus. Severus, come here now. Bring Draco. Hermione thought desperately, wondering if this would work.

Hermione? She could hear Draco's thoughts. _Severus isn't here. He's gone for the day, on Order business._

"When did he leave?" She thought aloud, worry filling her mind for the two boys who had gone comatose, still clinging desperately to one another.

She felt someone tap her shoulder, "This morning. My mother with him. But-" Draco paused in shock when he saw what had happened to the twins. "It's a relapse."

"You think?" Hermione spat without thinking, "Oh no, Severus isn't here. Do you know how to fix them?" She practically shouted, desperately restraining herself from hopping around from foot to foot in worry.

"Fuck it. Go over to George, he's less of a nutter than this one." He looked at Fred with an expression of distaste. "Come on, on a count of three. One - Two - Three, heave!" And Draco's eyes went blank too. Hermione had no idea what she was supposed to do on the count of three and so she found herself trying to enter George through his eyes, and it hadn't worked.

A few moments passed in which Hermione almost choked with worry for Draco, had he perhaps fallen to the twins' minds? But no, he was coming out with a strained look on his face.

"Why didn't you go in? They kicked me out, and created some sort of barrier." Draco said reluctantly, "I'm not strong enough to get past it."

"What? How was I supposed to do that, I don't even know how." She panicked again, trying to ignore the feeling of nausea that crept up on her.

"Right." Draco said, ignoring her. He looked at the twins, trying to discern the best course of action. Hermione decided first.

She went over to Fred's body, where the twins both seemed to be, and tried his eyes. There, they were there. And she could hear a whisper against her mind, and it was like a thread connecting their bodies. She felt it like the scent of the gem, only it told her things. It told her to stay away, to stay away and leave. And then she knew it was Fred.

What are you doing here! Fred screamed at her, but inaudibly. The scream was in the shaking of her thoughts, the feeling of vertigo that Fred undoubtedly pressed upon her. Since when was he so good at this?

"Why are you doing this? Why are you so scared, Fred?" Hermione said, tiptoeing lightly through the corridor that suddenly appeared around her. And she realized it was The Burrow, and the next door was the twins' room. Only, George was gone, and Fred was alone, trying to defend himself from the Death Eater.

You want to know what's wrong, Hermione? Fred echoed to her, and Hermione immediately felt sick.

Fred cursed and tried to tackle the oncoming Death Eater, but without his wand he was useless. The Death Eater laughed and mumbled a spell to pin Fred against the wall, and then bent him over the side of the bed. Hermione didn't want to see anymore, but she couldn't shut her eyes against the scene that took place before her. She could hear Fred screaming, and George pounding against the door that wouldn't open. And she could feel Fred being ripped apart by the Death Eater, who viciously raped him from behind. Minutes passed while Fred cried in agony. He would crawl away when the Death Eater paused, and the masked man would laugh and pull him back when he got two feet away, and break him again. He bled everywhere, his hands, where nails had gone missing, presumably in trying to claw at his tormentor, on his face and neck, where he had been hit and strangled, and from his backside. It was too gory a sight, but Hermione was forced to watch.

And afterward, She saw Severus burst through the door, and then George, who immediately pounced on the shocked Death Eater and ripped his mask off. With a scream bordering on madness, George pushed his thumbs into the Death Eater's eyes and gouged out what bloody chunks of eye he could. And it was MacNair wailing in agony as his sight was taken away from him, leaving his eye sockets a gory, bleeding mess when George had been pulled off.

And quite suddenly, the memory had gone blank. Fred and George had joined, leaving behind misery and giving themselves to each other, and they would rest.

"Pleased?" Fred sneered at her from the other end of the blank space. Hermione looked around, and conjured a small forest scene. Fred and George were both present, watching her with wary eyes.

"Of course I'm not pleased," Hermione managed, and she tried to say more. But the disgusting scene she had witnessed moments prior, and her successful yet draining attempts at Legilimency left her feeling ill. And that was all she could manage before coming back to her own body and throwing up the remains of her lunch.

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So anyway, This chapter was so hard to write! I had to get it all down before I changed my mind about writing it. I wanted to do something that kind of makes Hermione grow up. Earlier, she was sort of in a false sense of security, and I think this ordeal makes the War more real to her. That fred had been raped, and that Fred and George's clinging together was not some annoying pleasure, but maybe Fred's only anchor. You know? It brings things into Perspective, like Sevvy said

And I'm sorry if the gory scene left you with a bad taste in your mouth, but I think it needs to be there. It makes the situation so real, and proves that war is not the glory battle people sometimes make it out to be. So there we are. Please review, as I need to get a good idea of what people think of my changes in the plot. And wouldn't you like to know what happened to Bella?

Btw, sorry I had to end the chapter with Hermione throwing up cringes I know how much you guys wanted to read about that. X.x

-Jenie


	9. Something Inbetween

Scented

"It's not right. That pain." She said quietly, trying to make sense of her situation.

"It isn't," He conceded, "But there is little you or anybody else can do for it. No matter how hard the pain, it will never be right to hide in another's body. It isn't fair, and the pain will never disappear."

"What do you think will happen? Would they try again?" Hermione asked, determined to think about anything other than that memory.

"I've had a talk with George. He will not allow Fred to enter again, but that's no guarantee. If it comes to that, and I'm not there, I want you and Draco to take care of it."

"Of course." She ripped a handful of grass from the side of the hill where they sat. Frustration, but the wind took it away. Fred and George had finally separated when Severus found them all together, struggling. She was beginning to wonder if this hopeless feeling was normal in their situation.

Narcissa was gone. She was gone without two words to anybody, save perhaps Severus. Nobody knew where she'd gone, or nobody had said. In any case, Dumbledore didn't seem too troubled by it, so it must have been planned. Draco probably knew.

She looked over at her companion, who was absently twirling a blade of grass between his fingers. Still, that elegant form and apple hair did suit him. She wondered if he liked it.

"Do you want me to leave?" He asked suddenly, betraying no emotion. This Visit had been quiet, but companionable.

"Why would you think that?" She scooted closer to him, watching intently.

"You seem…distracted."

"No." Hermione placed a hand on his wrist and eased him back onto the ground, leaning over him. Her curls cascaded down from her shoulder to mix with his black hair, and she held his face in that perfect moment. The scent hit them full on, binding them within it. Severus closed his eyes as if in pain, and she placed her lips gently on his. The world was waiting for their kiss.

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"Hermione." Harry's voice was small.

"What?" She blew a lock of hair from her face, concentrating on her book bag.

"I think it's full." He crossed his arms nervously and watched her try to cram one more book into the bag.

"No, it can't be. All these books fit before, why wont they go in now?" She groaned as a side of the bag split. "Reparo"

"Here." He took about five books and placed them in his own bag, "I'll give them to you after we get to Hogwarts, alright?"

"Hm." She replied, and sat on her trunk distractedly. The books were from Severus, about all sorts of legilimency. Harry wouldn't know, they had been charmed to look like random Hermione books.

"I'll be downstairs. We're leaving in…" He checked his wristwatch, "Fifteen minutes."

"Alright." She said, distracted by that scent. It kept coming, it wouldn't go away. And nobody else could feel it.

She watched as Harry left, and double checked the room she had been using. No, there was nothing left. Bored, she levitated her things to the front door and came back for her book bag. But she heard an argument, or a discussion, coming from Harry's room. Hm.

"You'll have to trust me, then. Think of it like this, if I do happen to betray you, I'm a dead man. So if it's for nothing but my own life, at least it's enough to know I wont hand you over to the Dark Lord. He wants me as much as he wants you." Draco said patiently, waiting for more insults to fly from Harry's mouth.

"But why?" Harry asked, trying to keep his temper. Perhaps it was a struggle for Harry, but Hermione thought he was taking this suspicion thing a bit far.

"I may be a terrible arsehole to you, but I'm not a killer. At least not a good people killer. Don't know so much about the bad ones…" He trailed off.

"Oh, yeah, that makes me so relieved." Harry spat, obviously struggling with himself over this matter.

"So what would you have them do? Throw me, a valuable asset to the Order, out on the street to be tortured into revealing all the secrets I was sent here to protect? Even you have to have more logic than that, Potter."

They fell into an odd silence, with Harry probably trying to find a decent retort. But the silence dragged on, and Hermione could just imagine the two glaring at each other from opposite ends of the room. Poor boys.

She went back to her room to find her book bag.

Finally, they were all gathered in the kitchen, around a large poleaxe-ish thing. It was long, so the entire group could grab a part of it and not fall off in the process. Hermione was between Draco and Harry, and she felt some weird emotion coming from both of them. Maybe it meant she was getting better at legilimency. Or maybe it just meant they really hated each other.

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Okay yeah, super short chapter. What do you think? Sorry bout the crappy length, but I figured I should start a new chapter when they get to Hogwarts. It'll probably be up in around a week. Sorry people if you don't like this story at all, anymore, or kind of. I feel like my writing is getting progressively worse, and I'll try to fix it.

Anyway, I'd appreciate some constructive criticism - don't' worry, they're not plot holes, they're just things what for to surprise you in the end. I love surprises. Go ahead, take a guess. Well, I have to run, so toodaloo, leave some reviews!

-Jenny


	10. Servant

Scented

She felt that familiar pulling at her navel - disgusting, really. There she could feel Severus whirling along with her, and Harry, Draco, Ron, they were all there. But all in a blend, and mixed together in different colors. How had she never seen this before?

They eventually landed on the familiar cold stone of the Great Hall. It was dark here, a little too. Hermione felt a bit uncomfortable as people were either trying to keep from falling or recovering from it. She glanced over to see Severus watching disdainfully as Draco took several wobbly steps. It had been a long way to Portkey, but Hermione knew exactly when they would land. She'd expected it, and braced herself.

She leaned casually against the Ravenclaw table while the others figured out where they were. It sure was taking them a while.

"So, seeing as how there are only about half a dozen of us here, we'll all be housed in the guests' quarters in the astronomy towers until term begins. Students, your things are in the hallway next to your rooms, and you will each -" Severus gave significant glances to the twins, "be housed in your own quarters. Also, a few Aurors will be in and out over the next couple of weeks to train you, give lectures, et cetera. You will, of coursed, keep this from your peers during the school year."

Harry and Ron seemed anxious to leave the Great Hall, which was admittedly rather creepy without any lights. Draco was standing next to Ginny, laughing as he pulled on his ear. A third pull, and a flower grew out of it. Wandless magic, she wondered if it hurt. Ginny seemed a little too comfortable with him, and Ron simply crossed his arms and glared.

Right. This was going smoothly. Severus lit a few sconces along the walls with a wave of his wand, and the light extended to the dungeons and the astronomy tower, "Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger, I shall require your assistance in the potions lab until school begins. We're under stocked on the simple, time consuming potions you two should be able to brew. Evenings after supper."

Hermione looked at Severus and nodded her full understanding - time to train. Now she'd get to be a wonderful hero and give people nightmares and kill them in their sleep. Draco smiled knowingly at her, making her want to sort of pull his tongue out and cram it up his arse, Ugly.

She wondered why exactly she was feeling so giddy, but maybe it was just the remorselessness of assassination creeping up on her. When she was through with it all, would she be like Severus? She had to admit he wasn't anything at all like he had been during school. This Severus was her lover. And he made jokes. It was nearly incomprehensible.

But truthfully, she wondered what this training would be like. She'd never killed anybody before, and she wasn't entirely sure she wanted to, even if they were Death Eaters. They said death is better than Azkaban, and she believed it. Azkaban almost seemed to good for those who followed Voldemort, and death itself was undoubtedly too easy. But the aim wasn't to punish them; it was to get rid of them. She'd do her part.

Her head was hurting a little too much to feign comfort. She felt as if something was poking at her brain with a sharp stick. She looked at Draco, who was still talking to Ginny, and then to Severus, who was staring unsettlingly into her eyes. She blinked, and he did too.

He raised his hand to make sure she didn't speak, and didn't break the connection between their eyes. He didn't break the link that brought their minds together. Frightened, she pulled back, clamped up into a little shell, and felt the pain dissipate. It was smothered within her, and she was more than a little surprised to feel herself breathe again.

We have to talk, He thought to her,_ come to my classroom_.

He thought to her,. 

She felt this thought as if he were pressing it upon her, making it her only goal. He left the Great Hall without a backward glance toward any of the students. She turned around and there they were, still playing around. Hermione's head hurt too much when Severus had contacted her via legilimency, and thinking about it gave her a headache. Something was wrong.

She ended up following him a few minutes after he'd left. She'd made it look as if she was tired, and heading to her room for a nap.

Hermione hurried down the steps to the dungeons, muttering encouragements to herself under her breath. Something was wrong, wasn't it? She was beginning to feel it in her fingertips, and in her temples, and it was aching to be released.

"I thought you'd never come," He said to her, conjuring a comfortable cushy chair in front of his desk. He seated himself on one side and proffered the seat to her. Hermione shuffled her feet, concentrating on the specific pain in her head.

"Well, you know something's wrong, don't you?" Hermione bit out, holding her head between her hands. She could feel him looking at her. As a matter of fact, she could feel Draco quite strongly too, though he did not notice her. And the rest of them - Harry, Ginny, Ron, the twins - they were there as well. Ginny was feeling shy, because Draco was flirting, and she hardly ever felt shy anymore. Harry had a strange angry feeling, resentment, perhaps. And Ron was paying close attention to the twins, feeling as if he had been given too much responsibility. Why? How did she know all this?

"Naturally," He responded, sounding as if he had expected her coming apart like this.

"What is it?"

"It's something we all go through. I admit, I assumed it wouldn't occur in your case, because your power was discovered with me." Hermione wasn't sure if he was trying to sound so obtuse.

"What exactly are you talking about? And could you hurry? My head feels like it's going to fall off my shoulders."

"We - that is to say the Dream Walkers - most always face this sensation. I thought you had been spared, because I felt exactly what you're feeling now…I felt it the night I Visited you for the first time. But I suppose it spares nobody. I'm sorry to tell you, the feeling is never going to go away, unless you train yourself to ignore it. It can be very useful if you are in need of it. Unfortunately, you must give your feelings, your emotions a back seat in this situation." He steepled his fingers on his desk, staring at them as if they held the answer to her predicament.

"You can't tell me this will never go away!" She begged, "It hurts even to listen, when you thought to me earlier. It felt so…wrong."

"How does it feel wrong? As if you feel guilty for knowing the Why behind everything, or because it's foreign… as if a needle is being pushed into your head and left there?" Severus watched her intently now.

"Both." She sighed, making a little puff of steam in the cold dungeon air, "It's hard to think… I'm scared to. Will ignoring it make it hurt less?"

"Fearing it will make it worse. I can at least tell you that. I was hoping you could get started with your training, at least, before this had to happen. But you must persist, and I will give you no leave because of the pain. It is irrelevant, and we can afford no luxuries," He nearly whispered by the end of it. Saying these very words seemed to pain him even more than the incredible wrongness of Walking did her.

"Why does it happen?" She finally managed. "Why doesn't it happen to other wizards?"

Severus watched her closely as she spoke, perhaps trying to understand her meaning. But he eventually took a breath, "Your mind, it's trying to hold itself together. It's a dangerous business, you could fall apart at the seams and spill out into everywhere. Your friends would have memories that they had never experienced, many of them would probably go to Draco and me, and perhaps Potter. So in trying to hold itself together, your mind resorts to poking the memories and thoughts back in with the mental equivalent of a cattle prod. Crude, but very effective.

"You'll learn to cope, learn not to wear your heart on your sleeve, and after a good long while, it will not feel as if you are committing some great sin against yourself every time you reach out. I'm only grateful you got to me this early, before you started spilling your dreams into night, where any sleeping person could easily pick them up."

She drank in his words, carefully filing them away for future reference. It did make sense. It did feel as if her thoughts were being poked around into different parts of her consciousness. And she wondered how long she would have to live with this unpredictable mind. If it was easy to feel nothing. For the Order.

Severus had been right. Walking wouldn't be the hard part, it was keeping herself together that would be difficult.

"We will begin lessons tomorrow night, after supper. Wear something comfortable, there may be some falling." He grimaced, as if it was disdainful to him.

"Falling?"

"Falling. And pogo sticks and a game called Marco Polo, I believe," He smiled at her, "Just because you'll have to learn to Walk without falling asleep. It's one of the more difficult lessons."

"I…see." She internally flinched. She didn't want to have to feel that odd pain. It wasn't so much pain, as it was a feeling of wrong. Wrong, unnatural to Walk. Unnatural to be outside oneself.

And a sudden thought came to her, frightening and too clear, "Wait, Severus. Do you mean to say you can feel it as well? All the emotions, all the fear, at will?"

"Unless the person is exceptionally skilled at Occlumency, yes," He said, "But it is, as you said, at will. It is the paradox of legilimency. The gift and the curse. I am not a whole man, Hermione… and I fear to say that in time, you may come to realize it in yourself. It is for the greater good, for the Order."

Hermione felt it in herself. The void. The need of it. After what he had told her, it was clearly evident that without the ability to Walk, it would feel as if she had lost a sense. As if she could no longer hear, or see. Or Scent.

It was slowly killing her.

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Tell me what you think? Is the story twisty like you wanted? Is it too twisty for your tastes? I think this fic will have to be a few more chapters than I had originally intended. Ah well. All the better for you, methinks?

BTW, I love you all. Thanks so much for your patience. Feedback really makes me get off my ass (or in this case, on it) and write a new chapter. Just a shout out to all my readers, and particularly reviewers. I luverya! The next chapter will be longer, really!

-Jenny


	11. The Gift and The Curse

Scented

Disclaimer - I don't own harry potter or the world in which he ..er… frolics

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She could feel him turning, tossing in bed. He was dreaming, and she couldn't wake up because of it. He was dreaming of her - that much was evident. She couldn't see the dream as much as experience it, and the feeling swept over her. It was such an odd sensation, because she felt as the man felt, without the certain necessary appendage.

She was reminded of Harry's dream, when he had discovered Arthur Weasley being attacked… or when he had been the snake.

She pressed into warmth, and was quite disturbed to imagine that the warmth was her own. The pain was back in a burst of emotion, and it stabbed at her. It prodded into her mind, rummaging through her thoughts as if she were dead. The dream ended, and she could feel Severus' alarm. He was awake, but he hadn't broken the contact. He was coming to her.

"Are you alright?" Severus whispered by her bedside. She hadn't stopped to think how he'd come into her room so quietly.

"Do you dream of me?" Hermione asked, lifting herself off the bed.

He looked at her, into her eyes and found very little sanity and too much pain.

"I know what you're thinking," Hermione whispered into his ear. She pressed up against him seductively, trying to elicit some response.

"Because I wasn't hiding my thoughts. You're not right, Hermione. It will take some time to adjust to your predicament." He placed his hands firmly on her shoulders and tried to pry her off.

"No, it wont. The hurt wont go away until I finish what I started." So she looked into his eyes and smothered him. She showed him the dream that had taken place minutes prior, and his defenses were down. It didn't matter that he couldn't breathe or move or make his choice. He was hers to take, as he had promised.

She overwhelmed him with the dream that he probably could not remember. She glanced at his eyes and saw the cloudiness there, the fervor he could not deny. Carefully, she pushed him onto his back and watched intently as he moaned in agony or passion. Hermione found that irresistible. She touched his neck, gently, and wrapped her arms around him. She whimpered for effect, and he tensed beneath her. She positioned her knees on either sides of his hips, fascinated at his expression. Severus squinted his eyes shut and fought to block her from his mind. But she suppressed him, because she was stronger than him. He tried valiantly to push her out, to end it before it could begin.

She leaned down on top of him and licked the lobe of his ear. He tasted like the perfume gem - sweet and distant. "I need you now, Severus, don't fight me. And I know you want me, I can feel it." She rolled her hips and felt him tense, then relax. As if he had done all he could, and now he was resigned to it.

Hermione heard a loud noise outside of her bedroom and watched as Draco burst in, panting as if he had run a marathon. Severus sat up, throwing her off, and took deep, gasping breaths. Her momentary lapse in concentration had released him from her hold.

Severus looked up at Draco, who was laughing shakily and trying to assess the situation.

"I don't have my wand, put a body bind on her," Severus said, keeping his voice level.

"Right-o, Severus." Draco nearly laughed and spelled her still. Hermione looked frantically about, afraid of what had taken place. What she had done.

"I didn't think you could hear me," Severus said, speaking to Draco and looking completely past her.

"It's hard not to when Granger's spilling her thoughts out to anyone who cares to listen. To tell you the truth, I thought she'd conjured you in a dream. It was a while before I realized you were actually here." Draco smirked, looking past her as well.

"That's…wonderful." Severus snorted, before pulling his shirt back on. She didn't even remember removing it.

"So, what do we do with her?" Draco asked, looking worried.

"I'll give her a mild sedative, it should calm her mind." Severus left the room, leaving her with Draco. He looked much pleased.

"I told you you're a Pureblood. Mudbloods can't handle this stuff, I heard they go crazy." Draco smirked, watching her struggle against the body bind. It was true she wanted to slap that smile off his face.

Severus returned, a wand in one hand and a bottle of steamy blue potion in the other. He released her from her body bind and watched her sit up on the bed.

"Severus," She looked somewhat terrified, "What was that?"

"I'll explain it to you in the morning, Hermione. You need to drink this for now, and it will stop hurting." He proffered the small bottle.

"I wont drink that, it's a sedative! I want to know what's going on if you're resorting to drugging me!" Hermione grabbed the wand from Draco's lax hand and pushed him away from her with her feet. She held it out threateningly, waiting for an answer.

Severus sighed and easily plucked the wand from Hermione's hand. He returned it to Draco, put his own wand in his sleeve and watched her closely.

"Your condition. It will get worse before it gets better. You can sense what others are thinking: how they feel, their instinctual reaction to any situation. Your connection to a person, specifically on the level of Walking, only increases this capability. Basically, until you learn to hold yourself together, you'll be able to see what others see, hear what they hear." He sat on the edge of the bed and noticed Hermione shiver. "But because you cannot hold yourself together, the same effect can easily be reversed, to give anybody able to Walk the opportunity to invade your personal thoughts and dreams. It is too dangerous to leave you this vulnerable, so I'm going to give you a very mild sedative to calm your mind, so you can sleep without having to see others' dreams. Will you take it?"

She watched him with an expression of mute horror. So she hadn't known how dangerous it was, how easily she could give away the secrets of the Order. She took the small bottle and downed it in one, gagging afterward.

"God, what is that?" She wheezed, "It's still burning."

"Actually, it was just a few ounces of Firewhiskey and Absinthe." He smiled at her, "Mixed, it's quite effective as a tranquilizer. I had to work with the materials I had in my room, you see -"

She was fairly sure he'd said something else, but the lack of consciousness really made it difficult to listen.

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Her head hurt. Wait, it hurt like someone had hit her in the head with a sledgehammer. Why was she on the floor? She heard a woman gasp, and suddenly Madam Pompfrey came into view.

"Oh, how did you get there?" Pompfrey levitated her body onto her bed. "It was completely unethical for him to give you alcohol, and such a large amount. I'll make sure to have a word with him. Just rest. Here - I left a potion for your headache, just make sure you drink at least one cup of water."

Hermione felt better as the potion took effect - she'd made sure to sniff it before taking tentative sips. She couldn't feel Severus anywhere in the nearby vicinity, so he must have left after last night. She had basically seen his fantasy, anyway. Draco, Harry, Ginny, and Ron were talking to each other, playing something eerily similar to the muggle game Monopoly. Fred and George - well, they were doing Fred and George things and Hermione wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. There was a new person as well, Albus Dumbledore greeted her mental probing with the offer of a lemon drop. She politely declined, and went about her mental inspection of Madam Pompfrey, who was replenishing the school supply of Skele-Grow. It was disturbing how fast they had run out. Dumbledore chuckled, listening to Hermione talk to herself, well, think to herself.

"I would advise that you stay away from my mind, Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore said from the doorway, "You may sustain some injury."

"Sir?" She was a little insulted.

"I mean to say, I have set some boundaries, a failsafe if you will. If I weren't expecting you, or if you took me by surprise, I may kill our connection too abruptly, and we may both come out injured. Also, leaving your own mind is dangerous in itself. You could easily become lost and not be able to find yourself."

He twinkled at her while she thought on it. "Sir, do you mean to say that I could get lost while I'm…helping the Order?"

"Possibly. Hermione, I'm afraid we must have a rather dismal conversation today, it has to do with choices."

…_Choices? That sounds like he's giving me The Talk that Dad gave me when I was twelve._

"Miss Granger, I don't know exactly how to say this, but we need you. We need you to Walk for us. I will not mince words - we need you to kill. You can kill them mercifully, Walking permits for a person to feel absolutely no pain. We've looked everywhere for a wizard with these capabilities, but you're the strongest mind we've yet to come across. You're stronger than Mister Malfoy and Professor Snape combined. You understand what this means for the Order?" It was hardly a question.

She gave the only answer he'd accept, "I understand and I will cooperate, Sir. I don't know if I'm truly stronger than Professor Snape, but I will help in any way I can."

"Once we win…Once we win, we'll be able to reward you completely, fully. I can't say it will be easy-"

She glared, "Please, spare me the platitudes. There was no way I could turn you down and you know it, and I'm aware of it as well. Don't pretend you gave me the choice."

He watched her with sad eyes, "It's for the good of the cause, Hermione. Please understand, the pain of one may bring the liberation of thousands."

"Yes, yes, I know. I'm Jesus."

Her eyes were weary, and Hermione suddenly felt so sick of the entire ordeal. She wished she could stop and get off of this emotional roller coaster, but there she was stuck at the top of it. Dumbledore left without another word, sensing her agony. Perhaps it was then that she'd taken the role Severus Snape. She felt angry.

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Ayah, sorry it took f'rever to upload another chapter. I've been working on Hermione, In Style a lot too (please go read it, it's in dismal shape as far as reviews go. Matter o' fact, so is this. Review, People! Make me happy!) yeah, Go read Hermione, In Style. I ate a personal pan pizza - first time I ate the entire thing. Ugh. It's like..nastay. I dunno how, but my brother can eat an entire large pizza, and I can't get past the second crust before I feel like throwing up. It is kinda nuki-heh, isn't it? Like, greasy and nasty.

Gimme a wootwoot, and a HOLLAH. My doggy is DYING. I feel bad for the little bastard. He's got cysts the size of golfballs, and we're having them surgically removed next week. Poor SOB wont be able to walk for ages. Fuck it! Yeah, go Korn!

I went to watch La boheme last week. Was tres good (specially the collurata, colluruta, I forget, but they've got these kickass voices I had when I was a little girl (yeah, I was one of those opera singer - in training things Korean moms have got, and then I started smoking) , got terrible seats though. LA opera house, pretty nice. Lots of moronic snobs though. How I loathe those bitches. Anyway, I grew up pretty spoiled too, but a few punches and kicks to reality and lookit me, I'm city as pie. Er, I'm babbling. Just

Read

And

Review.

Good day

-Jenny from the Block…


	12. Endless Sorrow

The pain had dissipated somewhat. It was still there, in the back of her mind. Whenever she thought about it, it tried to push its way forward. The easiest way to ignore all of it was to focus on Severus.

"Try to stay awake, Hermione. Leave your eyes open, think of Walking as an extension of your body," Severus coached her.

She found Draco's eyes again. He was waiting inside of the Slytherin Common Room. She'd been here before. But she startled when she heard a crash.

"Damn it!" Hermione watched her own body convulse on the floor. It was having a hard time keeping up with the lesson. Draco stood up, walked toward her, and deposited her once again safely inside of her mind.

"It's fine. Try again." Severus encouraged her, and she had to think it was only because she'd be suffering from enormous bruises before the night was over.

Hermione entered Draco's mind once again, and turned around quickly to find that her own body was still standing, and still keeping its palm against Draco's temple. Draco himself was holding her up by the shoulders, and she was relieved to see that her body hadn't crashed to the floor again.

The lesson took hours, and Hermione was dead tired by the end of it. Severus had been an almost cruel taskmaster, forcing her to try increasingly difficult things before she'd even mastered the basic, most essential aspect of walking - staying awake.

Draco had already gone to his room. Well, he had trudged to his room and fallen on his bed before even taking his shoes off. She was not the only one tired.

Severus was sitting at his desk, looking over papers for the Order. Hermione was sitting in her seat, keeping her thoughts to herself.

It was actually harder than it sounded. Severus would periodically glance up, give her a stern look and say, "I can hear you."

It was part of the lesson, he'd said, to make sure thoughts, dreams and unwanted opinions wouldn't be drifting off for other people to hear as they pleased. She had been trying to keep her thoughts from Severus specifically. Truthfully, she had been more successful that he assumed. She'd guarded most of her thoughts, and only occasionally let one out for him to hear.

She felt a ruckus upstairs. Albus Dumbledore was storming - that only happened when he was furious. Severus noticed it too, and he gave her one quick glance before hurrying out of the room in a flurry of robes. Hermione followed, dazed at the amount of confusion upstairs. Remus, Tonks, Kingsley and one more, but she couldn't place it. They were meeting in the Headmaster's office.

"What's happened?" Severus asked as he burst through the doors.

Dumbledore turned weary eyes to Severus, and then Hermione.

"We have suffered two losses tonight. I suggest you find Mister Malfoy and bring him to us. I'm afraid his mother won't last much longer."

Severus nodded his understanding and rushed out of the room.

Suddenly, Dumbledore sent her a flurry of thought. She winced at the sudden onslaught of Legilimency before understanding why.

Arabella Figg had been murdered. The house wasn't even standing anymore.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. It's truly a loss," Dumbledore consoled her.

"Thank you… sir." Hermione sat down at the nearest chair and thought about Bella. Truthfully, Hermione had known she would die the moment they left the Summerhouse, and Hermione had already mourned. She felt as if it had already happened, and all her sorrow had already been offered. What was left was a deep void in her heart. A thought fluttered in her mind, and found itself caught at the front.

Sorrow was a luxury. Emotion was a luxury she could not afford.

The thought imprinted itself on her mind and left without another word. Feeling vaguely empty, Hermione glanced at Draco, who ran in and wailed at the sight of his mother's prone body. She watched his tears - some of them stuck to his eyelashes while tracks ran down his cheeks. Those tears were a road. She watched as lines formed between his eyebrows, and on his forehead. Years of regret washed over him, and years of love. He pushed love at his mother, who was barely alive. She said two words to him, which Narcissa had been repeating in her mind over and over. "Goodbye, Goodbye."

Draco threw himself over his mother, weeping or moaning at the loss. Hermione felt the pain through Draco, who was hugging his mother's dead body.

She felt guilty, sitting in her chair far away from mortality, and reacting very little to Bella's death. She had so little sadness left.

Hermione left when everybody else did, out of respect. She went to her room and crawled into bed. There was nothing else she could do now, not until morning at least. She closed her eyes and tried not to dream.

"Are you feeling alright?" The man with the apple coloured hair appeared from behind his tree.

"Yes." Hermione smiled at him, glad to have his company.

"I thought you were in shock. You didn't say a word to anybody, and I couldn't feel you thinking." Severus painted the sky a lovely pink and blue. The sunset was gorgeous, but it never went down. It was just there, perpetually dusk.

"I feel…like there's no more left to feel. All the sadness and regret's been sucked out of me." Hermione leaned on his shoulder, delighted that he had embraced her.

He didn't say anything, just held her against his body.

"I only want to feel content with life, happy with it. And all these terrible things are happening and I can't find where to start." Hermione sighed, leaning into him some more.

He smiled at her. "One second then. Sit down."

She obliged, tucking her legs in beneath her. Severus leaned up and plucked an apple from the tree. It was the same color as his hair. He brought it to her, wrapped in warm light. Hermione bit into it, relaxing at the memory of their first meeting.

He had given her an apple, and she had made it sweet. They had talked about pointless things, bantered back and forth. Hermione cherished the memory, beyond anything. That was the night she could never forget. It was all breathtaking, and Hermione wished she could go back to the time when he was her only worry.

"Do you remember?" Hermione asked, watching the sun really set.

"I do. I don't wish you the pain of Walking, Hermione. But you've so much potential," Severus whispered into her ear.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," She said, remembering the night before, when she had abused him, smothered him.

"It wasn't so much pain, Hermione." He chuckled, "It was something else that had me worried."

"It's something lovers do," Hermione protested, for some reason unembarrassed.

"As equals. We will find the right time, Hermione." He closed his eyes.

Hermione watched over him. The sun had set, and the sky was a myriad of distant stars against a canopy of black. She held on to him as he slept - he had never trusted her so much before.

He had Walked into her dream. Hermione realized she was actually awake, and he was in her mind with her. She turned her head and watched the gentle rise and fall of Severus' chest. He was asleep beside her, and within her.

She fell once again inside of herself. Their shade tree rustled slightly as the warm wind passed through it. Hermione leaned against the apple tree. She held Severus, who had fallen asleep with his head on her lap. She guarded the edges of her Dream, so they would not be bothered. Exhaustion finally found her, and Hermione slept.

--

How do you find? Guilty, not guilty of overly short chapters? Sorry, folks, but you have to like my quick update, right? ..er, right? -ducks as barrage of books attempt to bludgeon her-

Anyway, So tell me what you think! Are you sad about Figgy? Don't worry, I am too, but there isn't really anything else she could have done but die. Le sigh.

There are a few things going on, and I've reached the latter half of the fic with this chapter. It's kind of an ending to all those questions, you know? What happened to figg, what exactly is Walking, who was her dream lover etc. More details in regards to heinous murder in the next chapter, and Draco Copes, Hermione Forgives and Severus Snarks (yeah, I know you're thinking finally some snark.)

Read and Review, because I'm a review whore. I think I desperately lacked attention as a child and it's backfired now. Stupid Korean culture leaving me bereft of Human Parents. Cry cry cry  
Jenny

I think my dog's feeling better by the way. I think he'll live a few more months, and maybe longer once he gets his surgery. He's a strong puppeh (though he's really old) and he's handled a lot in his life (you know, the usual. Parvo, nearly choking himself on his leash, starvation (that one time my dad was supposed to take care of him but forgot…), back cysts, and now armpit cysts. I feel sorry for the poor guy, he's had so much crap in his life. But it's okay. I let him sleep on my bed and he has a bucket of toys and treats and I feed him from the table (even though I really shouldn't…)

EDIT : I HAVE HERE ---

The Greatest Story Ever Mini-Mized!

basically, I can't link. So go to livejournal, and look up the user, veruslumen. my first entry will have the Greatest Story Ever Mini-Mized, and you have to leave a review.

It's really pretty cool, it's a cartoon of Hg/SS, comical in nature of course, but it's the standard SS gets summoned to Voldy and forced to do heinous things, and gets his back stabbed by voldy anyway. comes home to hogwarts, bleeding and bruised, only to have Hermione, the lovely new mediwitch have to care for him. You guess what happens o.O. Sexy Legos Involved.  
/EDIT!


	13. Impropriety

Chapter Thirteen

Draco had taken to his room almost a week ago. He didn't bother to come out, and the house was left to wonder how he managed to eat or use the restroom while he was barricaded.

The others didn't know. About the deaths.

Hermione kept forgetting, and she began to think she was going mad. At the moment, the most prevalent thought in her head was going to get something to eat from Dobby. She almost forgot all those things that had happened only a few days prior, which weighed so heavily on the minds of those who knew the truth. Even Harry and Ron managed to look respectably oppressed as the environment had taken on a depressing air. They didn't even know what was wrong.

Presently, Hermione was thinking only about that egg she was going to have poached, with a side of salad and cilantro salsa. It was the mechanical way she allowed herself to think, above the other things. Food had no emotion - deaths were filled with the mourning and loss of her friends, and she couldn't handle it. It was so much easier to think in the mechanical sort of way, and she wondered if that was how Severus conducted his life.

And then there was Severus. That night was the last she'd seen him. It was an embarrassing situation, really. She'd woken up before he had, and there was no way of saying what they had done in those hours which neither of them remembered. Hermione assumed they had slept, but Severus was probably off cursing himself for a 'lapse in good judgment.'

She was stronger than him. He had told her that they might make love as equals. And maybe for a moment, she thought he could be stronger, and that he might bear the burden of the strong as the weak could not. But then, she had guarded the dream that night, hadn't she? And it was her power that he feared.

Honestly, it was almost ridiculous, the situation. Here she was, a seventeen year old virgin who'd never even looked at a man twice. She didn't know exactly what he was, but he undoubtedly had more experience than her in these sorts of things.

_Arabella Figg is dead. _The thought intruded on her. It forced its way in, and Hermione almost cried before the mirror in the front hall. The reflection was so distorted, so disgusting, she couldn't look at it. The grin made her ugly, the power was deceitful. Who was she but a used, misguided little girl with no capacity for emotion?

Having eaten her breakfast in Dobby's little side-kitchen, Hermione resolved herself.

She entered the prefects' bathroom and turned on all the scentless taps, tossing in a gem from her box as well. The vapor rose, and she breathed it in. Her breath was rose and spice. She stepped into the water and watched, fascinated, as it took in her skin and her hair, which also took on the scent.

She touched her skin in the right spots, and waited for his response. He was in the library, researching some potion or other, and then he had felt her excitement. The languorous sort of excitement that could only mean that one thing. She waited for him to take another breath before continuing with herself. He had stopped doing whatever he was doing, and had stopped avoiding her mind.

She stepped out of the water and gently slid her robes over her still wet skin. It was more for his reaction than anything, because now she could feel that he was waiting, anticipating her movements. That was all for the best anyway. She walked barefoot through the cold, slightly damp hallways of Hogwarts until she pushed open the door to Severus' temporary bedroom. There, she removed her clinging robe and arranged herself on the bed, naked but for the sparse cover her hair could afford her. It was still wet, and longer because it was pulled straight by the water.

The last of it, and the most important aspect, was the belt she had used to tie her satin bathrobe together. She waited for him there. And she could feel his thoughts ranging from one to the other quickly. At first it was astonishment, at finding her where she might be - and then wonder, perhaps not believing that she would be so daring. But she was, and he was on his way, to make sure. He was walking briskly, frankly ignoring the questioning glances of the two he encountered on the way.

Finally, he arrived, breathing harshly and perhaps somewhat angrily. Never mind, it could be to her benefit.

"Hermione!" He gasped from the doorway, trying to look away from her naked body without actually doing so.

"Good morning, Severus," She responded, not at all deterred by his outburst.

He seemed to settle himself. "I wont ask what you're doing, as it's fairly obvious. But don't you understand that this is a period of mourning? What has -"

"And because we are mourning, does that mean we're likewise dead?" She asked civilly, it was her honest opinion. "I don't see the problem with this, except your recalcitrance."

"And I would have no complaint, but the impropriety-" He was cut off yet again.

"Since when have assassins been known to follow the rules of propriety? We live in this world together, we may as well share our comfort. Where is the wrong in that, and who will have the right to understand it?" She repeated it all as she had thought of it during her bath.

He was silent for a time, and so she took the opportunity to hand him the satin belt. "Go on. It's what I want, and I know it's something I can concede to you." She never said it aloud. But they both well knew that she was giving him power over herself. The opportunity to abuse her trust, to take what he wanted and leave her bereft.

He silently turned the satin over in his hands, and finally reached for her wrists, tying them up tightly. He then pulled her violently toward himself, by the wrists, so that they should meet halfway. His kiss was demanding, somewhat angry. Had she offended him?

Too soon, he was leaning over her, tying the ends of the satin to the wires of his headboard. She was trapped, finally, and was that the way she'd wanted it.

He ran his hand down, over her breast and across her belly. "You're wet.'

"You wanted me wet - the rain clouds in our last dream, the meetings at the lake." She smiled up at him, surprising him.

She pushed up against his still clothed body. It was still another armor for him, and her nakedness was her handicap. He looked up at her sharply, realizing her thoughts. And at that moment, he removed all of his clothes but his funny looking pinstripe socks. He untied the knots which left her as an extension of his bed and set her arms loose.

"Severus, I don't-"

"It isn't about that. It can't be." He pulled the belt from her wrists and flung it across the room, watching in satisfaction as it landed behind a chair, where it lay invisible.

The taste of him became that scent which she could not recognize. It was so sweet and dark and very much like the crushed black rose. She wanted to know what this was. She'd fought off the sensation those weeks ago, at Grimmauld Place. But now the scent overwhelmed her and she could only search for the one thing they both needed. She kissed him so that their tongues were jumbled and their breaths short. His hands weaved through her wet hair, grabbing the ends of it.

Many things were different in this way. They had both been seeking each other out through the eyes, masking their apprehension at first. There was nothing like that now, as they had both found what they needed. Time passed, and she did not realize any of it. There was no such thing as bodies, even though she looked back with her eyes and found his naked figure above her. She wanted to scratch at whatever made him not hurry up. It was so close, that thing she wanted to reach. He placed a hand beneath the small of her back, lifting her hips off the bed to meet him.

A pang of ache registered in the back of her mind, but she was still set on that one thing. She wanted to find that pressing weight on her subconscious, the necessity of something.

"How bad is the pain?" Severus asked, worry etched onto his face.

Hermione set her jaw in frustration and moved her hips against him. "Not so bad that you should stop," she urged. It was very close now, yet still fleeting at her fingertips.

This was all happening much too slowly. A tap at first, but he may not have noticed. She proceeded to push against his shoulder, forcing him to roll onto his back. There, that was satisfactory.

It was a heady feeling, having him underneath her. So now she could control it, and the last was ever closer. She rode him as the sensation swept over her. The scent of the perfume gem, the texture of sweat beneath her fingers. She touched him gently all over his body, and stopped when he hissed in response. The soft skin of his forearm was sensitive. His ears as well.

His eyes were squinted shut. "Hermione, stop. I'll-"

"Wait for me." It came out in a moan, and Hermione set her teeth in grim determination. This would be finished properly.

She sat up with her hands gripping his thighs, straddling him where they joined. He held onto her hips, balancing her, and the rhythm was driving her completely insane. It was just too much adoration, affection. She could feel each beat of his heart before she came. There was little room for anything but the tempo; Hermione fixated herself on the blood's pulse beneath her fingers as she tightened around him. He tensed, all around, for a second, and there it was. The impossible little speck of a goal was right in front of her, right beneath her.

She didn't even think to move off of him before saying contemplatively, "You know, I just realized. I've been obsessing over an orgasm for weeks."

He grunted in understanding sort of way before realizing what she'd said. "You what?"

"Well, that's why I gave you such a hard time. There was something I hadn't felt yet, and I guess I wanted to know what it was. I …Er…know now. So, that's good."

He laughed, lifting her off of him. There was that brief moment of mutual embarrassment as a wet, smacking noise emitted from between them as they separated. He grimaced and Hermione laughed at him, after which she realized that she had left her mental walls down for far too long.

"Oh, ew."

He raised an eyebrow at her, curiously watching the play of disgust on her face.

"…Draco. I think we just gave him a wet dream." She knew Draco would channel a monkey and fling shit at her tomorrow for this. Maybe it was a sign that he was feeling better.

"Wet dream?" He asked, confused. That was simply adorable. Snape. Adorable. Hmph.

"You know..er… Nocturnal emissions," She muttered under her breath, sighing resignedly.

"Oh." He agreed, "Ew."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Alrighty then. I've got another chapter under my belt and it took me long enough. I really like this one, except you guys might not. You can say I took the coward's way out by trivializing Draco's pain. I'm sorry to any of you who've lost loved ones ( I have, so I know the feeling ) but you must understand that I'm not writing this at all in Draco's point of view. Hermione is just going through a confusing time right now, and so she doesn't really have her priorities straight. Snape on the other hand, has always been a little screwed up, and he knows that he has to look for comfort where he can find it.

I hope you liked this chapter, and it's my slow reentry into the fandom. I've been reading a lot of romantic poetry and novels, and lots of stuff. Alias Grace by Margaret Atwood and Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, so you might find me taking on some of their writing habits.

Other than that, I don't really have much to say. I'm really tired and going to go to sleep after this. Tell me if you notice any inconsistencies, please. Thanks for R n' R!

Rested and Relaxed (read and reviewed as well)

Jenny


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